Stepdaughter
by vesperlynd17
Summary: All he ever wanted was his daughter's happiness, and the love of the woman he just newly fell for. What he didn't want was the chaos the combination would ensue. A tale of loss, new-found love, and acceptance. Dramione.
1. A Nightmare Relived

_**Here you go, the first chapter of my new story.**_

_Chapter 1 – A Nightmare Relived_

_"Mummy?"_

_The library door slammed shut, the dangerous sound betraying them as it echoed off the walls of the dark, unlighted corridor. Daphne cringed, knowing that if anyone – _anyone – _had heard the sound, and caught them, it would have been her fault, since she was the one who let herself be startled by her daughter's voice and let the heavy door slam behind her._

_That would be the last time she would let her guard down. For a second, she debated with herself on whether or not it would be imperative to use her wand to light their way. She decided she wouldn't need any light, thankful for the three years she had to familiarize herself with every nook and cranny of Malfoy Manor, making it easier for her to navigate herself around the mansion, even with her eyes closed._

_She ran swiftly, quietly to the turn at the end of the hallway, swiftly and quietly enough that no one would notice that the two of them were even there. No on lingered around that part of the manor, anyway – unless_ he_ had already sent someone to come after her and her daughter. No portraits would rat out on them, either. There was only one magical portrait in the entire house, of her husband's deceased grandparents, and that one portrait was on the other far end of the manor._

_Daphne wondered when she and her family would finally have their own portrait done – or if they would even get the chance, at all. Her husband's best friend was a talented painter, and had been offering to do their portrait for a long time now._

_Unfortunately, Draco couldn't stay with his family for any long periods of time nowadays, and so only part of the painting was completed._

_There was an alcove near the corner where she turned, an inconspicuous alcove facing a wide window, looking out to the spectacularly manicured gardens. She wondered again if she would once more get a laugh out of Draco's fruitless search for their daughter, not knowing that his little girl was just hiding in the alcove, for there was a lever on the wall that enabled it to spin around to enclose the hollowed-out side._

_She sat down on the chair that was on the spinning platform. Securing her baby girl on her lap, Daphne reached for the lever, and pulled it down without a sound. The safety of the alcove would provide her time and space to think of an escape plan. She searched her extensive knowledge of the manor ground for the safest passage out._

_"Mummy?"_

_She looked down at her daughter's small face, a face that mirrored Dapohne's own, from the raven locks, the green eyes, and the pale skin, down to the full, naturally red lips. The little girl's face incidentally mirrored the expression on Daphne's face, as well, an expression of fear and worry._

_"Sweetie, we have to be quiet," Daphne warned, noting that her daughter's second call for her attention had been louder than the first one. "All right?"_

_The three-year-old raised her index finger to her lips, assuring her mother that she understood. She was quite smart for her age, something Daphne and Draco were very proud of._

_"Mummy…Daddy?" she whispered in her high, wind chime voice. Draco had already been gone for almost a week, and his daughter wasn't used to not being able to see him for that long. She wrapped her tiny fist around a lock of her mother's hair, just like what she always did when she needed comfort. Daphne instinctively cradled her daughter to her chest, stroking her cheek._

_"Daddy's not her right now," Daphne whispered back. "We'll see him soon, I promise. But we have to be very quiet, darling. We have to be very quiet."_

_The plan in Daphne's head locked into place. The second floor nursery had a passageway under the crib, directly above a shed where Draco kept his Quidditch gear. The shed, in turn, had a trapdoor (that only the handprint of a Malfoy by blood could open) with a ladder beneath, which would take them underground. They could climb up the next ladder and end up in the middle of Narcissa's garden maze, which Daphne also knew by heart. At the end of the maze, there was a gate, leading out of Malfoy Manor's grounds. As soon as she was off ground and out of the wards of Malfoy Manor, she could Apparate directly to the top doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place, which she was allowed to enter, as its Secret Keeper, Harry Potter, had already told her of its location, after her husband's secret meeting with the Order a week ago._

They'll help me keep my daughter safe_, Daphne reassured herself._

_"Promise Mummy that you'll be very quiet, sweetie?" she requested of her daughter. She got a nod in response._

_"You won't make any sound?"_

_Another nod came._

_"Pinky swear?" Daphne stuck out her finger. An impatient look crossed her daughter's face, but the little girl locked her pinky with her mother's, eventually._

_Daphne gave a sad sigh, on the verge of tears. "You know that I love you, right?" she asked in a shaky voice. "And your daddy loves you, too?"_

_"How much do you love me, Mummy?"_

_She hadn't been expecting that question. Now, she was scared to answer it. Why was her little three-year-old girl asking that? Why was she asking that at a time like this? Was it just one of the silly things children said? Or did she ask because she wanted to make sure, one last time? Did she know as well as Daphne did that something might happen, and it might not be pleasant?_

_So, first, Daphne laid a tender kiss on her daughter's forehead, letting her lips linger close to the warm skin for a silent moment. She felt the little arms wrap around her neck, returning her embrace._

_"I love you more than anything I've ever loved, my darling."_

_"I love you like that, too, Mummy. And Daddy, too."_

_"What about Grandmama and your grandfather?"_

_The little girl in Daphne's arms shrugged. "Them, too, of course."_

_Daphne pressed her cheek to her daughter's. "Everything will be just fine, my love. We'll be with Daddy and Grandmama and Grandfather again, soon. You want to see them, right?"_

_"Yes, Mummy."_

_"Then you have to be quiet. That's all I'm asking. And you have to follow my instructions carefully, do you understand, sweetheart?"_

_"Yes, Mummy."_

_Daphne closed her eyes. She was so, so very tired._

_She placed both her hands on her daughter's small face, balancing the little girl on her lap._

_"Won't you give Mummy a kiss, then?"_

_The little girl placed a soft kiss on her mummy's cheek, and then on her lips._

_Daphne smiled for the first time since they left the library, ever since she found out. "Thank you for that. I love you."_

_"I love you, too."_

_Daphne reached for another lever, looked both directions from the alcove, and ran, still as quiet and as swift as before. She reached the nursery in record time, their daughter – the one she and Draco had the greatest love in the world for – still safe in her arms._

_She twisted the doorknob with a pale hand, the other keeping her daughter's head down on her shoulder. The little girl had already closed her eyes, not wanting to see any more of the darkness that enveloped them._

_And it was good that she did, because the sight that welcomed them into the nursery was not pleasant, at all._

_Daphne's clouded green eyes laid on her husband and father-in-law. Both pale, blond men were on the floor, huddled together, badly bruised and tied up. A masked, hooded Death Eater snatched the cloth they had forced into Draco's mouth to stop him from shouting._

_"Daphne –"_

_That was all Draco could make out, before Daphne heard the terrible, hissing voice of the wizard – or rather – the _murderer_ – she was taught to respect, but had grown to hate. He was really more of a monster than of a man. Daphne didn't believe that any man could ever inflict anything as inhumane upon his fellow human beings as the monster in front of her had for most of his life, blackmailing others to do the same, like he had done to her husband._

_"Hello, Daphne," Lord Voldemort hissed. Daphne cradled her daughter in her arms, fearing what was about to come, as the Dark Lord raised his right arm, holding Draco Malfoy's wand. She cushioned the little girl's head as best she could, while still keeping her daughter from seeing the painful sight in front of her._

_For a moment, Daphne's emerald orbs swept past Lord Voldemort, his raised arm with Draco's wand in it, his pale, terrifying face, and his thin white lips, which were moving. Daphne could make out an incantation, but she couldn't and didn't want to hear what Voldemort was saying. Now,s he was sure that all she wanted to do was look at her husband's bruised but still beautiful face, and comfort her only beloved daughter, who was still quiet, but shivering in her arms._

_The last thought that swept through her mind was _I love you_, directed to both her husband and daughter. Daphne was a trained Legilimens, and she hoped Draco hadn't been practicing Occlumency when she tried breaking into his defense with that one, single, endearing thought. At least he'd know. At least, for one last time, he would know. He would be reassured of it, and hopefully, he'd tell their daughter, too._

_And at the same moment, the curse hit her. There was a loud cackle, and a deafening yell. There was a child's cry, too._

_And then it was all gone._

_Draco Malfoy tried fruitlessly to crawl to his wife. Voldemort rolled his slit-like, red eyes at Draco's pathetic attempts. He flicked his wand – or, rather, Draco's wand – lazily, releasing his former ally from his binds._

_He reached his daughter first, cradling her, keeping her eyes away from glimpsing on her mother's dead body. Tears fell on his shoulder. He felt his daughter crying. She knew her mother was dead. She had seen it happen. The damage had already been done._

_"Ssh, ssh," Draco repeated. He comforted his daughter, although he was the one who need comforting the most._

_He couldn't believe that just like that, it would all be over._

_And it _was_ all over._

_It was all over for Daphne Greengrass-Malfoy._

_And her husband couldn't even have done anything to stop it._

_**Wow, I think I'm nervous. I really do hope I get a positive response from this.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

**Cheska. :)  
**


	2. A Gray Morning

**Feel free to kill me. :)) I feel terrible for not updating for...what? Almost a month? Or more?**

**Just enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to leave reviews!**

**I'm working hard on the next chapter.**

Notice that I didn't mention Draco and Daphne's daughter's name in the first chapter.

**

* * *

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_Chapter 2 – A Gray Morning_

_Daphne!_

Draco Malfoy shot up on his bed. He felt sick, his skin was clammy, he felt cold. That probably had to do with the layer of sweat that covered him, and the storm that was raging all over Wiltshire. Draco thought that the storm was centered entirely on the great expanse of Malfoy Manor – most particularly, over his bedroom.

A slight figure was lying on the other side of the bed.

_Her side of the bed_, Draco thought, with a pang in his chest.

For a second, he contemplated reaching out to her, and take her in his arms…then never let go. The girl on the bed beside him was wearing a loose, long, white nightgown. Draco was accustomed to seeing those white cotton dresses every night before he slept and every morning when he woke up, for Daphne had always worn them to bed. Lustrous black hair flowed on top of the white feather pillow the girl's head was laying on. He didn't touch it, but he still knew it was incredibly soft.

_Only Daphne could have hair as dark and as beautiful and as soft as that_, Draco's mind argued.

He could feel the warmth radiating from the person on the bed beside him – until he saw her shivering. The loving father took the comforter off of himself and laid it over the girl, and afterwards, he kissed his daughter's warm cheek. Amidst the smooth, shockingly pale skin, a lovely blush arose because of the cold.

Draco grabbed his wand from the bedside table, whispering an incantaion for the windows and for the curtains. Mastering control over this new wand was difficult, even though he'd already owned it for eight years.

But he figured he'd just have to deal with it.

It was better than using his first wand all his life and living with guilt. It was wise of him to have had it destroyed, and then replaced.

As soon as the curtains swung close, the darkness engulfed the room.

Draco lied on his back, thinking.

He had that dream again.

No, it wasn't a dream. It was really more of a nightmare. Dreams didn't have terrifying scenes in them. Dreams didn't haunt every moment of one's slumber. Dreams didn't give people the shivers as soon as they wake up.

He wished the dream would leave him at peace.

But, alas, Draco believed he was destined to relive the nightmare at least once a year for his entire life. It always came on a single night every year – the eve of her death anniversary. It was always the same. He would see her running, hiding, desperately looking for ways to escape, trying her best to protect herself and their daughter. He hadn't been with them then, but it was as if he was witnessing the entire thing firsthand, as he felt the anxiety and fear in her heart, the pain that stabbed her chest like a knife when she saw him and his father badly hurt and tied up…and the nothingness that became her when the Killing Curse hit her.

All those things came back to him as he lay in bed every June the second. First, he would stay awake, feeling sleepless, even though his body would be exceptionally sore and tired. He wouldn't fall asleep until midnight, and when he did, the memories would haunt him in his slumber. Then, when he awoke, he would have to face another day of mourning for her. He would have to face the loss and the grief all over again.

_As if 365 days over and over weren't enough_, Draco scoffed to himself.

It was already a yearly ritual for him. The only difference was that, somehow, it was as if the sadness always intensified with every passing year.

A tear fell down his cheek. Words couldn't express how much he missed her, or how guilty he was that _he_ was the reason for her death. _His_ failure was the catalyst for her murder. _He_ let her die. _He_ didn't try to do anything to get the Dark Lord to spare her.

_No_, Draco thought violently.

Referring to the filthy murderer who took Daphne's life as the _Dark Lord_ was like showing reverence for the monster that killed her. He would never regret joining forces with the Order of the Phoenix and giving them information that would help lead to Lord Voldemort's demise. That was the only way he could avenge Daphne's death.

He cried silently, careful not to wake the sleeping figure beside him, the one thing that was dear to him now. Draco mourned for his wife, knowing that he would never feel her soft skin again, or gaze into her mystifying green eyes, or kiss her on her full lips. There would never be another morning where he would wake up after a night of hot, passionate sex and see her smiling down at him, or find her safe in his arms, sound asleep.

Another pang of guilt struck him. There was never anything passionate between them. The sex was always hot and pleasurable, because both were completely comfortable with one another after three years of marriage.

But it was never passionate.

It might have been passionate for Daphne, though. The night that she died, moments before she breathed her last, Daphne had broken into the fortress of Draco's mind with Legilimency, telling him that she loved him.

She didn't have to remind him. He always knew. He _always_ knew. Every word and gesture from her to him was a testament of her adoration for him.

But somehow, Draco felt that he didn't love Daphne as much as she loved him. They had always been best friends, and she had been the most important figure in his exclusive inner circle in school, the one he had always turned to for advice and support. Their friendship intensified during the three years that they were married. When their daughter was born, the child only added to the many things that Draco and Daphne already had in common. Daphne was the mother of his only child, and Merlin knows how hard that entire process must have been for her. He would always have love and respect for her because of that.

And still…

That was all she would ever be, would she?

In his heart, she would always be _just_ his friend, _just_ the mother of his child_, just _his wife – and never really his soul mate, even though he wanted her to be. Daphne could have been his perfect match, for many reasons. He never thought about or looked at any other woman after they were married, and Draco Malfoy hadn't dated or slept with anyone in the eight years that he had been a widower.

Wasn't that proof enough that his heart was for her, only her? That he would never love anyone else in the same way he did her?

It was driving him insane.

The bed started shaking, every movement vibrating through his body. Draco gave one exasperated sigh, and turned on his side to look at the person beside him.

"Selena," he breathed, "Come over here."

The girl rolled over slowly towards him, unwilling to let him catch a glimpse of her reddened eyes. She immediately buried her face in his chest, and engulfed herself in her father's arms. Draco held his daughter for a while, but then he cupped her cheek with his hand gently, and raised her face and observed it. For a moment, he saw Daphne as he stared at Selena's face. His little girl's emerald eyes, though wet with tears, were glistening the way Daphne's eyes always had whenever she saw him.

"Have you been crying?" Draco inquired, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Have you?" Selena shot back.

Draco frowned. "Yes. Why are you crying?"

She hid her face once more. "Same reason as you, Dad," she mumbled. Draco rubbed her back and stroked her hair for a while. After a few minutes, he kissed the top of her head, and said, "Selena, I think we should get dressed now. I'm sure your grandparents would like to leave early."

Draco rose from the bed, and walked around the room. Selena remained on the bed, unmoving, watching her father. Finally, Draco stopped in the middle, with his hands on his hips, staring at his daughter.

"Selena, _move_? You wouldn't want your cousins and grandparents to wait."

"Can't we just stay here today…and not go…there…?" she whined. "It's raining, Dad. It's a bad day to head over to the…er…ah, cemetery." Selena winced.

Draco sighed. "No. Go to your room _now_ and get dressed. The rain is no excuse."

_It_ always_ rains on this day, anyway,_ Draco admitted to himself.

He strode into the bathroom. "What are you doing in my room, anyway?"

Tension built up, as Selena grasped the silk sheets in her white hands tightly. She bit her lip, then called out to her father.

"I had _your_ nightmare, Dad."

There was much emphasis when she said _your_. It was almost accusing. Like she was blaming him for her sleepless night. As if she was blaming him for the horrors she saw.

In the bathroom, Draco froze. He stood motionless, breathless. When he finally caught his breath, he had to hold on to the sink to keep from falling over.

Draco looked around the bathroom. The two sinks were still there, the ones that Daphne had installed so that they would never have their childish morning fights over the sink again. On the shelf hanging over the bathtub, Daphne's favorite bubble bath was still there, along with the sweet-smelling shampoo she used on her hair. Draco always used the shower, never daring to touch the bathtub, fearing that he might disrupt the memories of her sitting there, washing herself, while he sat on the floor beside her, admiring her beauty and perfection.

He was standing in front of the mirror, the mirror where she brushed her hair every evening. On the table in front of the mirror was her brush, the black brush her father had given her when she was a child, her initials engraved in gold on it.

Draco stared at his reflection on the mirror. His skin was exceptionally pallid this morning, drained of every color. Even his silver eyes seemed darker. It was as if a swarm of Dementors were in the room with him, for he felt that every happy feeling was being drained out of him, as well. The white surrounding the silver orbs in his eyes were still a bit red from all the crying. He supposed they would get even redder when they arrived at the cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, he marched into the bedroom to face his daughter.

Selena's eyes trailed after her father as he came closer to her. Draco sat on the edge of his bed, beside her outstretched feet.

"Which nightmare, Selena?" Draco asked.

Selena's mouth ran dry. "Dad…the one where…er…the night that Mum died," she choked out. Tears fell down her cheeks again. She tried desperately to wipe them away.

Draco stared at the carpeted floor. "How did you know I had that dream?"

"I heard you talking to Grandmama before about it, Dad," Selena replied. "Last night was the first time I ever remembered. We never talked about it, and I just knew she was dead, but I didn't recall that I was _with_ her. That _you_ were with her." Selena's face had a crazed, tormented expression, as she spurted out the words slowly, painfully.

She ran her little hand through her dark waves, pushing her bangs away.

"Daddy," she began, the word coming out in a severe whisper. "It's so, so terrible…I…don't want to remember again."

Draco caught her as she flung herself to him, hiding in his embrace.

"I woke up just right after I saw…after I saw her die, Dad…and I ran here," Selena continued. "You were still asleep, but…but I figured that you were having the same dream – oh, wait, no. Nightmare, I mean."

"It's all right, Selena," Draco whispered. "You don't have to think about it anymore. It's gone and past. You'll forget about it soon."

"How soon, Dad? How come you haven't forgotten yet? How come you still remember it?" Selena pressed.

"It's different for me, Selena," Draco sighed. "At least I think it is. I knew your mother longer than you did.

Selena sniffed, "I miss her, Dad. I miss her, even though I didn't know her."

"Of course you knew her," Draco protested. "She spent every minute of every day with you, you know."

"I can't remember that," Selena frowned. She sat up straight, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "I'd rather remember those days than that single, awful nightmare."

She shook slightly. Draco wanted to reach out once more, for he feared that she might break if she moved.

"Did she love me, Dad?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her, masking the pain of his heart breaking as he heard that question. "You saw in the dream how desperate she had been to keep you safe, Selena. She loved you, very much, there would never be any doubt of that. You were the most important person in the world to her. You meant everything to your mother."

"Did she love _you_, Dad?"

"Yes, she loved me, too. She _never_ failed to let me know that. The last thing she did," Draco's voice faltered, as his heart brought back the rush of love he suddenly felt for Daphne in her final moments.

Soft, warm hands rubbed his lower arm, up and down. Selena wordlessly pleaded for him to go on.

"The last thing she did…was to tell me she loved me."

Selena smiled fondly at her father. "You loved her, didn't you, Dad?"

Draco's spirit frowned.

Did he?

Of course he did.

But just not the way he wanted to love her.

Selena waited for an answer, pursing her full, naturally red lips. When her father didn't answer, she took it on herself to answer for him. This had to be hard on him, remembering his wife, and talking about her with their daughter.

"I think she meant the world to you, Dad," Selena hummed. "If she didn't…you wouldn't be this way today."

Draco smirked. "I'm sorry I'm being a bit standoffish."

"No, Dad, you're not," she returned his smirk perfectly. "You're doing the best you can…and I love you for that."

* * *

Placing the elegant crystal bottle back on the shelf, then shutting the glass door that kept it from falling and breaking, Narcissa closed her eyes, and breathed in the scent. It was heavenly, as always. Madam Malfoy straightened her black, velvet robes as she stood from the armchair in her granddaughter's bedroom. She missed the smell.

It wasn't the smell she missed, actually. How could she? Everyday, she would walk into this room, to perform her motherly duties for her granddaughter (_substitute_ motherly duties, that is), and tears would fill her eyes as she took in the sweet fragrance. She would spray the perfume around Selena's room whenever the scent was nearly fading, as the little girl found comfort whenever she smelled her mother's favorite perfume, a scent she had remember since childhood.

Her poor, beloved Daphne, her son's wife, the daughter she never had. Being the proper lady that she was, Narcissa never engaged in the battle that ended with Lord Voldemort's dead, but inside, she nursed a vendetta against Daphne's murderer. This was the same in their family, as Draco and Lucius and the Greengrasses also did their part in bringing Voldemort down. She hoped never to expose her darling Selena to the violent truth of her mother's death.

Those hopes were shattered this morning, unfortunately. As she and Lucius were enjoying their morning meal, Draco sullenly entered the breakfast nook. It had always worried Narcissa that it seemed as if Draco would enver get over Daphne's death, and that the pain and guilt he was feeling intensified with every year that they commemorated Daphne's death anniversary.

Her son had sadly announced, in a low, quiet voice, that Selena had been haunted by the same nightmare he himself had been experienced every year. Narcissa's precious granddaughter had finally faced the terror of the night of her mother's death.

The Malfoys, therefore, chose not to mention the nightmare anymore to the youngest member of the family. Let her bring it up herself…when she's ready, Lucius had decided.

Selena came out of the bathroom, clad in a white silk bathrobe, rubbing her long hair dry with a towel. As was custom every time she entered her room, Selena took a deep breath, her mother's fragrance bringing a smile up on her face. She parked herself down on the stool in front of the dressing table, and began brushing her hair.

"Oh, Selena," Narcissa huffed, trying to hide the fact that her eyes had become a bit teary. She swept over to the walk-in closet, and took a dress that was hanging from the doorknob. "I picked out a dress for you, sweetheart. You'll look absolutely darling in it."

Narcissa was easily amused by the disgusted look that appeared on her granddaughter's lovely face. She had foreseen a reaction like this when she first selected the white dress from Selena's closet, which had a big pink sash around the waist, and a gaudy pink ribbon at the back. The skirt bunched up right below the sash.

"Wouldn't it be too muddy outside to wear white?" Selena pouted, hiding her disgust so as not to hurt her grandmother's feelings. She opened the doors of the close, and filed through the many dresses before she pulled one out.

"Grandmama, I already thought of wearing this one today."

Narcissa stared at the knee length black, long-sleeved frock her young granddaughter's heart was set on.

Narcissa's face, which was wrinkle and line-free for a woman her age, scrunched up into a frown. Perhaps this sudden desire to wear black was brought on by the nightmare Selena had endured the night before.

_Well_, Narcissa thought. _I might as well let her have her way. Why add more to her disappointment_?

"What do you plan on wearing with that, darling?" Madam Malfoy smiled politely.

Selena animatedly introduced her choices to Narcissa, her wonderful grandmother who had raised her and stood in as her mother since she was three years old. The elder woman listened intently as Selena eagerly displayed the black stockings and plain black Mary Janes she had matched with the dress.

Narcissa leaned down to the not-so-little girl poised on the stool, and kkissed the top of her head. Before exiting the room, Narcissa turned her head.

"Can you get ready within an hour, Selena, dear? We really _must_ get going. Your aunt and uncle and cousins must already be there."

Selena left her grandmother with a small nod, before turning back to the mirror. She zipped herself into the black dress she had chosen, and started pinning her hair up into a tight bun. When she finally had her hair in the way she wanted it, her father knocked, and entered.

"Aren't you a bit too young to wear black, Selena?" was his greeting to her.

"I'd like to point out that you are wearing black, Dad. And so are Grandmama and Grandfather. And so will Aunt Astoria and Uncle Blaise and Diana and Raymond," Selena reasoned, her eyes fixated on Draco's gorgeous reflection in the mirror.

"Don't be silly. I doubt Astoria would let Diana wear anything that would make her look like an old spinster," Draco teased. He picked at the bowl of candies resting on the coffee table in the sitting room of Selena's suite.

"And I'm old enough to wear black, anyway, Selena."

Selena walked away from the mirror, muttering. "Perhaps _too_ old."

Draco laughed. "Put a sock in it and finish up, will you. You won't have time to change, anyway. We'll wait downstairs. Bring a cloak."

As her father left, Selena shot one last look at the mirror. In those few seconds that she stared at her reflection, she didn't see Selena Malfoy. Even though there wasn't any portrait of her mother in the entire manor, Daphne's image would forever be present in Selena's mind, and heart. In those few seconds, she saw her beautiful mother, her full red lips twisted up into a loving smile at Selena. Selena prayed that she would have to leave her mother.

_But she already left me_, Selena frowned.

She flitted out of the room, down the stairs, refusing to let the tears escape before they even reached the cemetery.

* * *

Selena was grasping onto her grandfather's hand when they Apparated into the wizards' cemetery. Lucius kept his granddaughter safe under his cloak, while still holding a charm over them. Draco kept looking back at them, to make sure his daughter wasn't getting rained on, as he held on to his mother with his wand producing a similar charm.

As they reached the open-air white marble building that housed the graves of the deceased members of the Malfoy family, Draco squinted his eyes to get a clearer look of Blaise Zabini and his family. The dark heads of Astoria and Blaise's children bobbed up as they saw their relatives coming forward. Once under the cover of the Malfoy mausoleum, Selena released her grandfather's hand, reaching out for Draco's.

She looked up at him with her eyes full of worry.

Draco pinched her nose, and knelt down, so that he was level with her.

"Hang in there, kid," he smiled. A weak smile graced Selena's face. Her focus turned to her cousins, aunt, and uncle, who were sullenly standing infront of the white marble tombstone which concealed Daphne's remains underneath it. A lump formed in the throat of the young Malfoy girl, but still, she opted to reach the tombstone before her family members did.

"Hello, sweetheart," Astoria hummed as she kissed Selena's cheek after Blaise had lifted their niece up in his arms. Selena gave another weak smile, but then looked towards her mother's tombstone. She read, over and over, the inscription that had been put along with Daphne's name, birth date, and day of death.

_**Daphne Greengrass-Malfoy**_

**August 9-June 3**

_Beloved daughter, sister, friend, wife, and mother._

_Even in the most dangerous times, her love for family and friends never faltered._

_May her blessed soul rest in eternal peace._

Selena stayed in silence for a long time, not even noticing that she had already transferred from her Uncle Blaise's arms, to her father's. Draco pressed his lips to Selena's hiar. All eight of them in the mausoleum remained silent, as Selena meditated, unbeknownst to the fact that she was already spouting big, baby tears. Draco let his daughter weep. She could cry all she wanted today.

Hiding her face on her father's shoulder, Selena cried herself to sleep.

Draco left her cradled on Narcissa's lap, while he walked out of the mausoleum to get some air, even though it was pouring buckets outside. Astoria caught him before he had gone farther than two steps away.

"Oh, darling, you don't look well," Astoria whispered, as she placed her hand against Draco's cheek. Draco was comfortable with his deceased wife's siter. One reason was it didn't pain him to look at Astoria, since her outward appearance was not so similar to Daphne's. Astoria had richly brown hair, same as her father's. While Daphne had entirely taken after their beautiful mother, the only common feature Isabella Greengrass shared with the more favored, older daughter was her green eyes. The only common feature the two Greengrass girls had.

Seeing that Draco was deep in thought, Astoria cleared her throat to catch his attention. "Don't you want to go back inside, where it's warm? It's cold here, sweetheart."

"No, don't worry, I have my wand," Draco protested.

"I know, Draco, but, please," Astoria sighed. "I'd rest easier if you were there with us." She read the pain in his eyes, and took back her words after a moment's thought.

"But…er…if you prefer…if it would be too much for you to handle…Draco, you just go right ahead," she stuttered. Her mother would have been so disappointed at her for stuttering. "Just…just be back soon, won't you?"

Draco nodded stiffly. Astoria wrapped her arms around his neck – or around the highest point of him she could reach, as he was inches taller than her.

"Watch Selena for me, please?" Draco asked.

Astoria smiled. "Of course"

Their heads turned as a bustle came past them. A group of people, all wearing black, holding Muggle umbrellas over themselves, walked by a few yards away. The first three in the front were children, the smallest one a girl. Following them were their parents – at least, Draco assumed they were the parents. An older couple trailed behind, four tall men, and a slender blond woman, who was grasping onto the arm of the tallest man. The last in the group was alone under a black umbrella, dressed in black jeans and a black sweater. From under the black beret she was wearing, Draco could see her curled hair, and it appeared to be of a chestnut brown color. She was petit and had a smart manner about her, althought she wasn't quite as pretty as the blond. Her face was pale, but Draco knew that it wasn't her natural skin color.

He recognized her almost immediately. His heart suddenly pulled him toward the direction of the large group.

Draco took Astoria's head in betweent his gentle hands, and kissed her forehead.

"I'll be right back, Astoria," he breathlessly announced. "I just saw a few old friends of mine pass by."

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**No preview for now, I'm sorry.**

**There's still a lot to be done about the third chapter, which I hope will be as good as it was in my mind.**

**What did you think of Selena's name, by the way? Leave REVIEWS! :D  
**


	3. A Sister Bereaved

_Well, my dear readers, here we are again. Uhmm, helloo? Is anyone there?_

_Haha. I didn't expect to have any reviewers after not updating any of my stories for a year. I am so sorry._

_This short chapter is my first step to getting back my writing streak. I hope you like it. Don't forget to review! I'd love to hear what you think should happen to our characters. I value your opinion._

_And yeaah. I know it's short. Hahaa._

_**Cheska**_

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**Chapter 3 – A Sister Bereaved**

Astoria Zabini, formerly Greengrass, looked on as her sister's widower departed from the Malfoy crypt. Poor, hapless Draco, too young to have lost a wife and too young to have to raise a daughter on his own. At least she and Blaise always did their part to ease his burden. They never minded, even. Selena was simply a delight, and a wonderful playmate, cousin and friend to their own children. Sometimes, Astoria would slip and call the little girl Daphne, by mistake. She didn't forget to observe that whenever she would, Selena's face would instantly light up, either.

Poor, fearless Daphne, too young to have lost her life and too young to have been in that terrible situation in the first place. Astoria considered everything that could have been changed so that things wouldn't have had ended so tragically. If their mother Isabella didn't favor her elder daughter after younger Daphne, she wouldn't have insisted that Daphne be sent to the Malfoys instead. If their dear old father hadn't been so wrapped around his wife's finger, he wouldn't have agreed to her wishes to let Astoria stay. If the Greengrass family hadn't been bound by an oath to provide a wife for the Malfoy heir, then both Astoria and Daphne would have been home safe, and neither would have to suffer bearing the company of Lord Voldemort in Malfoy Manor.

She greatly missed her little sister. Beautiful, enchanting Daphne was always center of attention, but when they were together she devoted herself to Astoria. Daphne idolized her sister because she was smarter and more talented. It was not that Daphne was any less gifted; that way of thinking resulted from their mother's favoritism. Mr. Greengrass, then, decided to give more of his time to his younger daughter, who he felt was too neglected by his wife.

Why _was_ Isabella so unconcerned for her second child? Was she so affected from failing to produce a son? Their father had always tried to even things out for both girls.

It was August when Daphne left the family estate for Malfoy Manor. Her wedding would take place a week from then. That day, the only thing that consoled both girls after separating was that Daphne would be able to marry for love, and not just because she was bound by an oath. Daphne and Draco were always close friends in school, and even more through the strains of the war. As she climbed into the fireplace to take the Floo to Malfoy Manor, she told Astoria, "Draco needs me there, you know. He needs someone to lean on, especially now."

"And, of course, you want to be the one. You naughty girl, still hanging on to that schoolgirl crush, I see," Astoria had teased. Her sister's cheeks had reddened at that, until their mother impatiently cleared her throat.

"Enough of that, darling," Isabella said, scolding Astoria gently. She had turned an indifferent face to Daphne, "Go on, you wouldn't want to keep Lucius and Narcissa waiting. Behave yourself there, young lady. Don't put this family to shame."

Astoria cringed as she remembered how crestfallen Daphne had been as she took in her mother's dismissive parting words. A week later, Isabella only attended the official ceremony to make sure that Daphne would follow through with the wedding and left without speaking to her daughter, though she had offered her congratulations to the Malfoys. When Selena was born, Isabella didn't even bother to visit her daughter and grandchild after finding out that the baby was not a boy.

Her marriage to Blaise Zabini was in the year after her sister's to Draco Malfoy. Raymond was born in the same year. It did not help Daphne's situation with their mother at all that Astoria's firstborn was a boy. However, Astoria knew that even if she'd given birth to a girl, Isabella would still have given her more favor over Daphne.

_Daphne would have been a better mother to Selena_, she couldn't help but think.

Well, Draco was doing a wonderful job raising his daughter with Narcissa and Lucius' help. Astoria allowed Raymond, Diana and Selena to spend as much time with one another as possible. Blaise was in constant competition with Draco, Narcissa, Lucius and Astoria herself spoiling the child.

She would gladly help Draco and Selena through anything, but she had her own family to consider. And Draco needed something that none of them could possibly give him. Something she knew he missed out on with Daphne.

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_Well, well, well. Care to review? Thanks!_


	4. A Storm Subsiding

_Hey, guys. Here's Chapter 4._

_Dedicated to all the loners out there. :)_

_-- **Cheska**_

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**Chapter 4 – A Storm Subsiding**

_"Daddy, it's Friday night."_

_ "Quite an observer you are, Selena," he laughed, pinching her cheek._

_ He looked at her and saw that she was giving him a curious look._

_ "Daddy...you're not going out tonight?"_

_ "Err...don't you want me to stay here with you?"_

_ "No, Daddy. Aren't old people supposed to go out with their friends on Friday night?"_

_ "Well...they don't _have_ to, S," he explained._

_ "Don't you have any friends, Daddy?"_

_ "Of course I do. I have Aunt Astoria, and Uncle Blaise."_

_ "Oh. I have Raymond and Diana."_

_ Selena turned her attention back to her doll, but added, "I don't have a lot of friends."_

_ Draco stood up from the chair behind his desk and sat on the floor with her. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't have a lot of friends, either, sweetheart."_

_ "I know, Daddy. That's why we have to stick by each other..."_

Selena had been eight years old then. Draco was sitting at his desk perusing something his father had given him and Selena was keeping him company in his study, playing on the floor.

He really didn't have a lot of friends. His mother and father were popular in Wizarding society, but Draco could only count Daphne, Blaise, Astoria, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson as his friends. Because of all the secrets his father had subjected him to keep, Draco could only let a few people to get to know him. You were vulnerable if you let too many people know too much about yourself, Lucius had drilled into his mind. Daphne was gone now, though, Theodore was sent to Azkaban with his father, and he lost contact with Pansy after their commencement ceremony in Hogwarts.

So why was he making his way through the rain, not to mention getting his expensive black shoes soaked in mud, to see a group of people who were never even close to him?

Sure, his family had an eternal debt to Harry Potter for saving their skins from Azkaban, but that was the last thing that linked the Malfoys to Potter and his friends. When he got a bit closer in proximity to them, he hid behind a wall, not knowing why he even considered going to them. Draco counted the familiar faces among the people who had stopped to gather around a gravestone in the middle of the cemetery.

Among the sea of redheads, the most recognizable one was the tall blonde. Draco would never forget Fleur Delacour and his experience with her in the Yule Ball. She was still beautiful, yes, as a Veela should be, but she was definitely not his type. The man standing beside her was obviously her husband Bill Weasley. From where he was standing, Draco could already see the permanent scars on Bill's face – a painful reminder of the war and the monster called Fenrir Greyback.

A short frumpy woman with mousy brown hair was holding on to the arm of an elderly redheaded man – Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley. One of their five sons was missing, though, the good-looking one who had been Gryffindor's Seeker, before Potter came into the picture. Their only daughter Ginny was standing beside her husband, the very man who helped the Malfoys retain their freedom. Potter held two boys by each of his hands, and Ginny was carrying a little girl who shared her fiery hair color.

The woman standing at the back made her way through the crowd. Still holding her umbrella over herself, she crouched before the gravestone and placed a flower on top of it. When she straightened back up, she took Molly Weasley's outstretched hand and stood beside the old woman. Mrs. Weasley said a few words to Hermione Granger, and Draco assumed that the latter made a witty reply, because the adults started laughing.

The shorter boy who was holding Potter's hand pointed towards the gate of the cemetery, and the group started walking away from the gravestone. They filed out of the cemetery two by two: Fleur and Bill, Percy and George Weasley, Harry and Ginny with the little girl in her arms. Arthur took the hand of the shorter boy, while the taller one walked beside the Weasel King himself. The last to follow were Molly and Hermione.

Draco made a step forward, hoping that he'd be able to walk fast enough through the slippery ground to reach them. He stepped on a twig, and it made an audible sound as it snapped in half. He retreated to the wall he was hiding behind.

He cursed inwardly as he realized that Hermione Granger had heard the twig snapping. She and Molly paused, and Draco watched as she said a few words to the older woman and patted her hand. Mrs. Weasley followed her family out of the cemetery, and as soon as the Weasleys were out through the gate, Hermione made her way to where she heard the noise.

Draco panicked. Here was Hermione Granger, that bushy-haired little know-it-all who damaged his jaw in their third year in Hogwarts. He hadn't seen her – or any of her companions – for seven years. What was she doing? Did she know that he had been sneaking around watching them? Was she coming to reprimand him for spying?

Hermione paused, to Draco's relief. Her eyes swept the area, but she remained stationary. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out a wand. For a moment, she twirled the wand around with deft fingers, eyes still searching. Draco's chest tightened when she stopped playing with the wand and held it by its base. With the tip, she brushed away her bangs.

She stretched her arm in front of her, casting a spell. "_Homenum revelio_," she whispered. The wand in her jerked and pointed at the wall, behind which Draco was lurking. He backed up against it as he heard her footsteps becoming louder and louder, coming closer and closer.

In a split second, Draco decided to make a run for it. He made wide, quiet footsteps towards the corner of the short lane.

However, she had already seen him. Draco felt her eyes on his back. The only sound then was the grass crackling under his feet, for she had stopped walking.

He was determined to get away without her recognizing him. That was until he realized that the hood of his cloak wasn't up and his distinctive blonde hair was in plain sight. His feet kept moving.

"Hello, Draco."

The cool voice spoke gently, but even though he was standing on the opposite end of the lane from her, it was clearly audible. Draco spun around quickly, his face already adjusted to his customary smirk, concealing any uncertainty that he felt.

Her slight frame was a few meters away from him.

"Ah. Hermione Granger," he drawled. At the same time, they both started walking towards each other. They met at the center of the lane. For a while, they studied each other, without saying a word.

The ageless Malfoy had his hair slicked back as usual, showing his pointed features. Maybe Bill Weasley did know what he was saying when he told her that the Malfoys were probably a family of Veelas, like his wife's own. She was washed over by a familiar sense of comfort just by seeing him, and so she threw her arms around his neck, standing on her toes. Because of his surprise, Draco lost the strong grip he had on his wand and accidentally removed the Shield Charm that he had been casting over himself. Luckily, Hermione still held her umbrella over them.

The scent coming off of his clothes reminded her exactly of Hogwarts. Little did she know that _her_ scent did the same thing for him.

"It's nice to see you!" she gushed as she released him. Malfoy was still stricken from her sudden actions. "Oh, Draco, you look well. Haven't changed, at all. How are you?"

"I'm fine," was all he could make out.

"That's good. We just came over to visit Fred's grave," Hermione shared. She bit her lip. "You remember Fred Weasley, right?"

"Greg's twin, yeah, I do."

"It's George, actually," she laughed. "You must be here for Daphne, aren't you?" Her voice had turned softer.

She frowned when he nodded. "I thought so. I'm still very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Draco muttered.

He noticed that she was standing closer now to keep both of them dry from the rain. Hermione rocked back and forth, transferring her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels. Draco thought it was childish, but very Hermione.

"This dreary weather," she said thoughtfully. "It's going to make all of us catch cold."

"That's England for you," he commented in a lighter tone.

"Well," she smiled and pointed her wand towards the heavens, "Us magical folk can be spared from it once in a while, I suppose."

Using a non-verbal spell, she stopped the rain from pouring. With satisfaction, she pocketed her wand and noted Draco's amazed expression. "I take it you weren't in Advanced Charms with Professor Flitwick," she said as she folded her black umbrella.

"No, no. I was in Advanced Potions, trying to steal Slughorn's attention from Potter."

"I do miss Hogwarts," Hermione hummed. "James, Albus and Lily can't wait to start school because of all the stories we'd share with them. They're Ginny and Harry's children. By the way, Draco, how's Selena doing?"

Draco's eyebrows went up. He couldn't believe that she still remembered his daughter's name after seven years. He wondered if Granger was the one who took care of Selena when he asked the Order of the Phoenix to protect her.

"She's turning eleven next month."

"James is eleven too! Oh, this is good - they'll be in Hogwarts together!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I'm still concerned about leaving her on her own. She's not used to not having my mother around to look after her," he shared.

"I'm sure she'll do fine," she said, cocking her head to the side. "She'll be just like her mother, popular and confident and beautiful."

"She already is," Draco chuckled. As he heard himself laugh, he pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

"No doubt about that. You know, all of us are gathering at the Burrow for dinner tonight. We'd love for you to join us and catch up," she said without hesitation.

"Oh…no, thank you. I really don't think I should leave Selena on her own tonight. She's just recently learned about…_how_ Daphne died. And – "

"Bring her with you then!" Hermione suggested. "She can play with Harry's children."  
It was a tempting offer. Draco thought about how his daughter's lack of friends and his own. Selena would finally have additional playmates, and he would be able to have fun with people who weren't his family.

"It's generous of you, Granger – "

"Hermione."

"Hermione," he tried. It rolled off his tongue easily. "Well…I think it would be better for Selena if the two of us get to talk about her mother tonight. This is the first time she's asked any of us to tell her about Daphne."

"I see," Hermione contemplated. Draco wondered if it was disappointment on her face. "Send my regards to Selena, then, and to your parents and Blaise and his wife, please."

"Sure."

She started biting her lip again while he tucked his hands into the pockets of his black slacks.

"I'll see you around?" he ventured.

Hermione brightened up. "Of course!" she grinned. She drew even closer to him and kissed his cheek. "Take care of yourself, won't you, Draco?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she breathed out. "Well…goodbye."

As she turned her back to him and made her way out of the cemetery, Draco wished that it wasn't goodbye. He hoped he'd see her again, along with her friends.

Selena spotted him as soon as he turned the corner towards the Malfoy mausoleum. She had been holding on to Narcissa's hand.

"Daddy!" she squealed as she threw her arms around his waist. "Look, Dad," Selena pointed to the sky. "It stopped raining!"

Draco crouched on the ground and hugging his daughter, buried his head into her fragrant dark hair. "Yeah, it did."

"Dad?"

He looked at her and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Will you tell me about Mum when we get home?" she requested. Her red lips had fixed themselves into a small pout.

"Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want to know about her," Draco agreed.

He took her hand and followed his parents, Blaise, Astoria, Raymond and Diana out of the cemetery. As he walked hand in hand with his daughter, he looked up at the heavens, where he knew Daphne was, and thanked his wife for Selena, because at least, he wasn't entirely alone.

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_Pretty hard chapter to write. It was totally draining. Haha._

_REVIEW? :D Thnks. I'm going to the US for a 2-month vacation. So it might take some time to get Chapter 5 up. But here's a teaser:

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**_Chapter 5 - A Memorial_**

_"This present isn't just for you, Selena. This is for the entire family," the tall dashing man gave a wink to the eleven-year-old._

_"What is it, Uncle Blaise?" the celebrant squirmed in her seat. Her emerald eyes were twinkling with excitement._

_Across the room from Blaise, the head of the House of Malfoy let out a sigh, "Let's not dilly-dally, shall we, Zabini?" To this, Blaise Zabini merely smirked. He clapped his hands suavely, and a dozen House-elves entered the grandly decorated dining room. The little creatures were bearing something heavy on their shoulders, something that was as long and wide as the table they were all sitting at. It was covered by an expanse of white cloth.  
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_The elves heaved the huge object down onto the floor, placing it in a vertical position against the wall._

_Blaise swept his eyes over the faces in the room. His wife was holding their goddaughter's hand. Lucius was casually leaning back in his chair, although his interest in the new arrival was obvious. Raymond and Diana exchanged conspiratorial looks with their father, and Narcissa was giving her son a concerned look. Draco, of course, was still standing by the open doors, swinging his wine glass back and forth. Blaise smirked when he noticed that Draco was eyeing the covered object peripherally._

_"And so," Mr. Zabini said, holding on to the white cloth, "to my darling goddaughter, Selena...happy birthday, sweetheart."_

_Blaise smoothly pulled the cover off, and the sound resonated as the material hit the fine wood floors._

_It was accompanied by the sound of a crashing wine glass.  
_


	5. A Memorial

_First part happens around Blaise._

_Flash back in second part._

_I might recommend a box of Kleenex. This is gonna be a pretty long chapter. Enjoy. :)_

_-- **Cheska**_

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_Chapter 5 – A Memorial  
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Blaise Zabini loved parties. He loved hosting parties. He loved attending parties. Hell, if he didn't have Astoria and Raymond and Diana, he'd say he _lived_ for parties, and most parties die without him. He would find any reason to celebrate and throw a huge bash, serve free-flowing booze and dance his tight ass off. When the kids were around, he'd tune his wild partying ways down to something G-rated, but he'd still be fantastically fun.

_If Draco would just stop being such a fucking drama queen_, Blaise grumbled to himself as his best friend stormed out of the room.

A modest dinner was being held in Malfoy Manor tonight, July twenty-fifth. It was exclusive to family, and the Greengrass-Zabinis were the only family the Malfoys had. Blaise had been so excited. He went through his customary pre-party pampering. He got a kick out of growling at his fierce self in the mirror, doing the nasty with his wife while they both showered, shaving that gorgeous scruff off his face without scratching himself, slathering his body with the glorious scent Astoria gave him, putting on a snappy suit, and growling at his reflection once more.

Plus, when he saw Astoria in that sleek dress, he just couldn't help tearing the fabric off her.

After a Silencing Charm and two rounds of his favorite workout in just thirteen minutes, Blaise and Astoria guiltily redressed themselves and headed down to the main foyer of the Greengrass manor, where their children were waiting.

His petite Diana was in a lavender skirt with a frilly blouse, white stockings and black flats, and as soon as she saw her parents walking down the stairs with their arms entwined and a blush on her mother's face, she ran to them and tugged Blaise's hand.

"Come on, Dad! I don't want to be late for Selena's party!"

"It's not a party, silly. I told you, like, a hundred times," Raymond reminded his little sister.

"Yes, it is, you meanie," Diana frowned.

"It's just dinner, because if it was a party there'd be more kids. It's just you, me and Selena again," her brother sighed. Blaise took his coat and escorted his son out.

Diana turned her cherubic face up to her mother. "What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, sweetheart, Raymond just misses his friends in Hogwarts," Astoria said. She plucked the headband from her daughter's hair and placed it back neatly.

"I'm going to Hogwarts in September!" Diana remembered as she and Astoria joined the boys inside a stretch limousine. "So will Selena! She's turning eleven today, you know. That's as old as I am!"

"Oh, poo, my baby girl's all grown up," Blaise pouted. He lifted Diana from her seat beside him and transferred her to his lap. "September's in less than two months. Aren't you scared to be moving out of the house so soon, Tiger?" he teased, using the nickname he'd made for her because of the wild tantrums she threw when she was smaller.

"No, Daddy, Selena will be with me. She'll take care of me."

"What about your brother? He'll take care of you, too, right?"

"She wishes," Raymond muttered, causing his parents to laugh.

"And which House do you want to get into, honey?" Astoria smirked.

Diana straightened up on her father's lap and crossed her arms. "Slytherin, of course," she replied haughtily. Blaise's eyes twinkled with satisfaction and he ran his fingers through her hair, "That's my Tiger."

"Good evening, Mr. Zabini. Madam Astoria, you look beautiful tonight."

"Hello, Sully," Astoria greeted the driver, who spoke to them through the intercom.

"Sir, Miss Malfoy's present is in the trunk as you requested, wrapped and ready."

"Very good job, Sully," Blaise approved. "Off to the Malfoy's now, then."

"I haven't seen this present yet, darling," Astoria whispered to her husband.

"I've seen it!" Diana announced, bouncing up and down.

"Hush, sister, we're not supposed to tell," her brother scolded.

Astoria raised an eyebrow at her children.

"It's really big, Astoria," Blaise said slyly. "_Huge_."

"Is that why we took the limousine instead of Apparating?"

"Yes," Blais snickered, "That, and because I know how annoyed Lucius still gets whenever I bring around a Muggle car."

So, really, Blaise Zabini was in high spirits at the start of the evening.

His family was greeted graciously by Narcissa Malfoy, her husband expectedly sneered at the limousine, and as Diana, Raymond and Astoria were ushered into the manor by the Malfoys, Blaise slipped a bag of Galleons to a few dumbfounded House-elves to sneak Selena's present into the house.

When he entered the front hall of the Malfoys' handsome home, his beautiful goddaughter was descending the stairs with her father. She was in a simple frock of a rich turquoise shade, the upper half of her hair held back, and in flats just like Diana, except in silver, instead of black. Blaise thought about how strong the Greengrass' genes were – Diana looked exactly like Astoria, Selena was a perfect copy of Daphne. Selena even had Daphne's dark locks and was the first Malfoy to be born without the family's trademark blond hair.

Selena tore away from her father's side and pounced on her godfather. "Uncle Blaise!" she shrieked as he kissed her hair. "Diana says you've got a present for me!"

"Don't we all," Blaise laughed, and the adults followed suit. "Of course I have a present for you, my darling girl. It's your birthday. Have you forgotten?"

"No, and since it's my birthday, Grandmama asked the House-elves to cook my favorites," Selena said proudly.

"You _asked_, Narcissa, and not _ordered_? By Merlin, I'm surprised. That's a first," Blaise joked. The children cracked up. Lucius stiffened. Astoria bit her lip and hid a smile behind her hand.

Narcissa however, gracefully walked closer to Blaise, her waist-length hair following her every movement. She swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you naughty boy, save the wisecracks for Lucius. We all know you're his favorite."

Astoria allowed herself to laugh at that.

"Come, children, let's have you seated at the table," Narcissa invited. The children scampered ahead to the family dining room. Narcissa tucked her arm into Astoria's and left the men standing in the front hall.

Blaise was still feeling good and decided to try his luck. He stood so close to Lucius Malfoy and stretched his arms out to the older man.

"So very nice to see you, Lucius, truly," he smirked. Behind them, Draco snickered.

Lucius' kept a straight face, but his hand moved fast, snatching the wand from inside his cane and pressing the tip to Blaise's prized possession.

"Another attempt to _hug_ me again, and Diana and Raymond might not have another sibling," Lucius sneered. He hid his wand and spun around, dress robes swishing around him. He followed the women and children into the dining room.

Blaise's hand protectively went to his pants. Draco, laughing, clapped his friend on the back.

"You really should know better, mate. You've known the old man since you were in nappies."

"Oh, he's getting more bitter and crabbier with age."

"Thanks for coming, man."

"Wouldn't miss this for anything…except maybe, a V.I.P. box at the Quidditch World Cup," Blaise wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, I got Premium seats for you, me, Lucius, Raymond, Diana, Selena and Astoria."

"Don't bother. You wouldn't be able to get my wife to come to a Quidditch match for her life," Blaise sighed. "Say, do those seats come with free Omnioculars?"

Draco smirked. Blaise grabbed his friend's blond head and kissed the top of it, "Merlin, I do love being best chums with the World Cup's principal sponsor."

Draco jerked away, making sure his fine hair was still smoothed back in place. "You're in a good mood tonight."

"It's my favorite goddaughter's birthday, and I've got a killer present for her. You'll see."

"She's your _only_ goddaughter."

"True, true."

"You idiot," Draco shook his head, smiling. Blaise slung his arm around Draco's shoulder, but the latter pulled away quickly.

"No kisses," he hissed.

Blaise raised his hands up and the two joined their families at the table.

The table was as Blaise expected it. Madam Malfoy had laid out her finest china, silverware and glassware, for what event is more important than her only granddaughter's birthday? Place cards were in front of every plate, although they were so familiar with their assigned seating that the fancy things were not needed anymore. Lucius, as usual, was at the head of the table facing the doors, with Narcissa at the other end. On Malfoy Sr.'s right was his treasured Selena, who was beside Astoria, who was beside Diana. Sitting at Lucius' other side was Draco, Blaise himself, and Raymond.

"I hear Draco's taking us to the Quidditch World Cup," Blaise started as the main course was served.

"Awesome!" Blaise's son reached over his father to give his godfather a high-five. "When is it, Uncle Draco?" Raymond inquired.

"First weekend of August, mate," Draco replied.

"So is that Selena's birthday present already?" Blaise asked.

Draco chuckled. "My little girl could care less about Quidditch."

Blaise jokingly put his hand to his forehead, his jaw dropping. "Egad! What kind of goddaughter of mine does not live and breathe _Quidditch_?"

"Your favorite _only_ goddaughter, Uncle Blaise," Selena drawled. Blaise could see Draco gloatingly smirking. She sneaked a glance at Lucius. "Don't tell my grandfather, but I actually prefer this Muggle sport over Quidditch."

"Ooh, something Muggle that'll possibly irritate Lucius. Do go on, darling," Blaise quipped, placing his chin on his head eagerly. When he saw Lucius' icy glare, he cleared his throat, "But still, I am quite hurt that you have not inherited your father's obsessive love for our favorite sport."

"Well, it's quite popular among the Muggles here in Britain. They call it football, but in America they refer to is as soccer because they have a different game that's also called football. It's quite barbaric, though – American football," Selena told her party animatedly. "It's pretty much like Quidditch; you have two teams, a goalkeeper, Chasers called strikers, and nets instead of rings. The only difference is that they only have one ball, and of course, it doesn't fly."

"No Golden Snitch?" Blaise scrunched his nose. "That can't be fun."

"Oh, but it is, Uncle Blaise. Really, it is. It's even better exercise than Quidditch, because since you're not flying around in brooms, you get to exercise your legs, too."

"How do they get the ball to the nets?" Diana asked.

"It's quite simple. They just kick it with their feet. That's why it's best to play football when the ground's soft and muddy," Selena blushed.

"How do you know so much about this football, Selena?" Astoria asked.

Narcissa uttered a small disapproving sound, causing Selena to bow her head. Draco answered Astoria's question: "Your goddaughter here coaxes the House-elves to let her through the gate so she can join the Muggle kids who play football on the empty lot in front of the manor."

"She even _begged _me last week to let her invite her new…_friends_ over so they can play on _our_ lawn. First of all, begging is entirely unbecoming of a Malfoy," Lucius sniffed, "and I refuse to have any Muggle children in my estate."

"Oh, Grandfather," Selena sighed. "Fine, I won't ask you to let them come over anymore, if you let me join a team."

"That's out of the question," Lucius said haughtily.

"But how will I be able to use the equipment Daddy got me for my birthday!" Selena countered.

Lucius' eyes widened violently. He drew his wand out of his cane and swatted Draco's hand with it. "Conspirator," he hissed at his son. "I should have chained you up in the dungeon for having bought a Muggle car a long time ago."

"It sounds really fun, cousin," Diana said. "Daddy, if Selena joins a team, can I go with her?

"Absolutely not, young lady!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Girls, you will not have time for any Muggle team anyway," Narcissa reminded. "You're going off to Hogwarts this year."

Diana and Selena looked at each other.

"I say we bring football to Hogwarts, cousin. What say you?" Selena proposed.

"I'm in. I'll come over next week and you can teach me," Diana grinned.

"That's great! You can play with me and my new friends."

The two girls winked at each other and turned back to their food, satisfied. Blaise and Draco both crossed their arms over their chests like children who didn't get their way.

"This is your fault, Malfoy," Blaise accused. "You're influencing my goddaughter."

"Oh, can it, Zabini."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, smiling. "Are we done with this discussion, then? I shall ask the elves to bring in dessert now, if everyone's alright with that."

The elves rushed in and served some kind of fruit parfait to the party.

"Just a moment," Blaise said, before the elves had a chance to leave the room. "Madam Malfoy, if you don't mind, I would like to ask the elves to bring my present for Selena in."

Narcissa held her hand out to give Blaise her permission.

Blaise winked at the elves, giving them the signal he had promised them earlier in the evening. As they exited to fulfill his request, he sauntered to the front of the room.

"Oh, you're going to love this, cousin," Diana giggled. This time, her brother was so excited that he didn't even bother to hush her anymore.

"This better be something decent, pal," Draco warned. He stood up and paced to the open French doors that led to the east garden.

Blaise ignored his friend. "This present isn't just for you, Selena. This is for the entire family," the tall dashing man gave a wink to the eleven-year-old.

"What is it, Uncle Blaise?" the celebrant squirmed in her seat. Her emerald eyes were twinkling with excitement.

Across the room from Blaise, the head of the House of Malfoy let out a sigh, "Let's not dilly-dally, shall we, Zabini?" To this, Blaise Zabini merely smirked. He clapped his hands suavely, and a dozen House-elves entered the grandly decorated dining room. The little creatures were bearing something heavy on their shoulders, something that was as long and wide as the table they were all sitting at. It was covered by an expanse of white cloth.

The elves heaved the huge object down onto the floor, placing it in a vertical position against the wall.

Blaise swept his eyes over the faces in the room. His wife was holding their goddaughter's hand. Lucius was casually leaning back in his chair, although his interest in the new arrival was obvious. Raymond and Diana exchanged conspiratorial looks with their father, and Narcissa was giving her son a concerned look. Draco, of course, was still standing by the doors, swinging his wine glass back and forth. Blaise smirked when he noticed that Draco was eyeing the covered object peripherally.

"And so," Mr. Zabini said, holding on to the white cloth, "to my darling goddaughter, Selena...happy birthday, sweetheart."

Blaise smoothly pulled the cover off, and the sound resonated as the material hit the fine wood floors.

It was accompanied by the sound of a crashing wine glass.

"Dad," Selena started as she got up from her seat and hastened to her father's side. When she offered her small hand, Draco grasped onto it for dear life.

The elves who had delivered the present had already started scurrying around the two, picking up broken pieces of glass and wiping the spilled wine off. A few of them took the white cloth, and when they were all done, they went out of the room in two straight lines.

Except for little Selena, whose eyes were still warily glued to her father, everyone was staring in awe at the portrait in front of them.

Out of the three people in the painting, the two adults were the most unmistakable – Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Draco, standing, was in an all black suit, with a silver-colored shirt. A tiepin with the conjoined Slytherin and Malfoy insignias was on his black necktie. His hair was slicked back, and his arm protectively around the back of Daphne's chair.

Daphne, of course, was just as beautiful and striking as ever. She was in a flowing silver Regency-era gown, complete with a folded white fan, white-gloved hands and a diamond and emerald choker necklace. Her cascading black hair contrasted with her porcelain skin, and modestly accessorized by strings of silver wound around the top of her head.

On an ottoman beside Daphne was Selena, who looked as she did presently. Stocking-covered legs folded neatly with silver Mary-janes, she wore a knee-length dress, the same shade as her mother's. Around her neck was the silver chain and emerald pendant Lucius had given her when she was born. In her waist-length hair was a headband the same color as her pendant and eyes. Selena's hand was on Daphne's lap, who was holding it.

Though Raymond and Diana had seen this portrait before, they were still awestruck by the beauty of their aunt, this woman who they never met but had heard so much about. Beside Diana, Astoria ran her hand up and down her daughter's back, seeing her sister for the first time in years. Lucius had his poker face on, as always, but Narcissa's hand had already fluttered to her chest. Blaise was still standing beside his masterpiece. He was carefully watching everyone's reactions, especially his best friend's.

As for Draco, he was totally oblivious to the fact that he had just dropped one of his mother's finest pieces of glassware and shattered it, but Narcissa hadn't seemed to notice that, either.

"What," Narcissa began, breaking the silence. She felt so ashamed for stuttering and straightened up in her seat, her back so rigid. "What do we say to Uncle Blaise, Selena?"

Selena tore her eyes away from her father and looked at Blaise, standing in front of the portrait. Her breath caught in her throat as she studied how alike her face was to her mother's. Their lips were even the same natural red.

"Thank you, Uncle Blaise. It's beautiful," she said softly, although her voice traveled throughout the room.

Blaise strode over to his goddaughter. He put one hand tenderly on her shoulder then swept the other one under her chin. "You're very welcome, love."

"It really is magnificent, Blaise, darling," Narcissa commented. "How were you able to create it without them sitting for you?"

"I copied Draco's image from one of the studies I did of him in my early days of painting," Blaise explained. "And last summer, I asked Selena to sit for me in that attire. Do you remember that, sweetheart?"

Selena weakly nodded her head. Her hand was still holding her father's hand.

"As for Daphne," Blaise continued. "Well…I painted her from memory."

He bit his lip. He didn't know how everyone was going to react to that admission. Would they criticize his memory for failing to depict Daphne correctly?

Everyone took their eyes from Blaise and stared at the portrait once more.

"You did my sister incredible justice, dear," Astoria praised. "It looks exactly like her."

Blaise nodded his head in gratitude to his wife.

"Blaise, we really must thank you for this portrait," Narcissa smiled graciously. She rose from her seat. "Now, if everyone is ready, shall we proceed to the Blue Parlor for coffee?"

"Will there be hot chocolate, Grandma Narcissa?" Diana asked her adopted grandmother.

Madam Malfoy took Diana's hand. "Yes, the elves made hot chocolate just for the three of you." She stretched her hand out to her own granddaughter. "Come along, Selena. Let's open your presents in the parlor. And we can show Diana your new football equipment."

Astoria and Narcissa led the children out of the dining room. Lucius rose from his seat and joined Blaise and Draco by the windows. An elf bearing a tray with three glasses of whiskey came up to them.

Lucius passed the glasses to the two younger men. "I must congratulate you on a job well done, Zabini."

"Thank you, sir," Blaise said, but he was still watching Draco, who was still gazing out the windows. "It's my tribute to Daphne, and a fitting present for Selena and Draco, as well."

"She appreciates it, I'm sure," Lucius said. "Now my granddaughter can see her mother anytime she wants. But I do wish you'd conjured it to be a magical portrait."

"We don't need any more magical portraits in this house. Not after how Daphne was betrayed by Abraxas and Lira," Draco snapped. He downed his whiskey in one gulp. "And stop talking about her, will you."

He walked towards the doors, but stopped to talk to an elf.

"Tell my mother I won't be joining them in the parlor. I'll be in my room, if Selena needs me."

And as Draco stormed out of the dining room, Blaise Zabini's night went down the drain.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had two fingers pressed against his temples. He was sitting by the bay window that faced the pond at the back of the estate, on the cushioned chair that Daphne had rocked Selena to sleep in. After giving birth to Selena on their bed, Daphne had immediately proceeded to the rocking chair to calm her crying baby.

_ "Her lungs are strong, that much I can tell you," said the female Healer who had aided Daphne._

_ Draco was so fixated on his crying daughter. He had a _daughter.

_ "I'm so glad she's healthy, is all," Daphne beamed, tears pouring out. "She's healthy and perfect and so beautiful." Daphne opened the baby blanket slightly to count her daughter's fingers and toes._

_ "She looks just like you, Daph. She's going to have your eyes," Draco predicted._

_ "What will you name her?" asked another Healer._

_ The new parents looked at each other and said together, "Selena."_

_ "Selena Demetria Narcissa," Daphne replied completely._

_ "Greengrass Malfoy," her husband added._

_ Daphne looked him in the eye. "Do you think your mother would mind that we didn't continue the Black constellation tradition?"_

_ "No. Not after we named the kid after her," Draco chuckled._

_ "What about your father? Would he be disappointed that we didn't have a boy?"_

_ "He wouldn't care. This little girl will have him wrapped around her finger." Draco rubbed his daughter's tiny pinky between his fingers to emphasize his statement._

_ Draco was running his hand underneath the baby's back to calm her, but she kept crying._

_ "Help me to the rocking chair, please, sweetheart," she requested._

_ "What? No! You just gave birth, Daph, and you should rest," Draco reasoned. "I'll take her."_

_ "No, please, I want to do this."_

_ He couldn't refuse her, not with her staring up at him with those sparkling green eyes and his child in her arms. Draco stood up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed. He gently held Daphne by the elbows and helped her stand. He guided her to the chair, and carefully sat her down._

_ Daphne adjusted her arms around the baby. There were two knocks on the door, and one of the masked Death Eaters peeked inside the room._

_ "Malfoy, the Dark Lord needs you in Lucius' study," the Death Eater announced._

_ Draco didn't want to leave his new daughter and wife. Daphne gave him a nod. He took Selena's hand through the blanket she was wrapped with and kissed it, doing the same to Daphne._

_ The baby stopped crying._

_ "My parents will be around soon," he assured her._

_ Daphne followed Draco with her eyes as he left the room. When he was gone, she nuzzled the baby's cheek with her nose, looking into the small face that was an exact replica of her own._

_ "You are so loved, my little Selena."_

He felt sorry for missing out on the rest of his daughter's birthday celebration. But why did Blaise have to ruin this night for him, of all nights?

He wondered if the nightmare of Daphne's death would visit him again tonight because of the portrait. There were no portraits of Daphne in the entire mansion, and it was as if looking at Selena's beautiful face didn't already make his heart ache.

Tomorrow, he was going to wake Selena up and apologize for retreating to his room so early. Then, he'd tell the elves to take the portrait to one of the empty parlors in a far wing of the manor, so Selena can enjoy it as much as she wants to.

And so he wouldn't have to see it.

The door opened, and Selena, without knocking, waltzed into his room. "Tubby told me where to find you, Daddy."

He took his fingers from his head and forced a smile at her. "Who, honey?"

"Oh, Dad, I can't believe you don't know the House-elves by name! You've known them longer than I have," Selena laughed.

Draco leaned back in the chair, and Selena took the chance to jump onto his lap.

"You're getting really heavy, Eleven," Draco teased, calling her by her age.

"And you're getting weak, Thirty," she retorted. Her hand pushed away his bangs from his face, which had already escaped from its earlier slicked-back position.

"I kissed Uncle Blaise and Aunt Astoria and Raymond and Diana goodbye for you," she said.

"But _I_ wouldn't kiss Uncle Blaise, honey," Draco joked.

"Yeah, since you're mad at him because of the portrait."

"Err, no, I really wouldn't kiss him," Draco defended. "And why'd you say that?"

"You were really strange after he unveiled the portrait," Selena bit her lip. "Didn't you like it, Daddy?"

"It's not as beautiful as the real thing," Draco said, giving her nose a little kiss.

"But it's the only thing I have that I can see my mum," Selena said. She rested her head on Draco's shoulder. His arms went around her.

"I know, honey," Draco breathed. He sprinkled the top of her head with kisses. "We'll have the elves set the portrait up in one of the empty parlors and have it furnished so you can stay there and be comfortable. What do you say?"

He raised a brow when Selena shook her head.

"Do you think it would be okay with Grandmama if we have it in the front hall? I want everyone who comes into this house to remember Daphne Greengrass."

_Shit_, Draco cringed. He started nodding his head, though. "Oh. Alright, sweetheart, that's fine. You can tell Grandmama tomorrow morning. I'm sure she'll be fine with that."

"Great!" she said. Selena fell quiet once more. When she let out a sigh, Draco said, "What's wrong, Selena?"

"Nothing," she replied. "I just…I think I remember Mum sitting here on this chair with me."

Draco didn't respond. He just cradled his little girl closer.

"I love you, Daddy."

"Happy birthday, love."

Selena fell asleep as she snuggled in her father's arms, just like her mother did on this very same night, eleven years ago.

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* * *

**_A Preview from Chapter 6 - A Day of Quidditch:_**

_As the three children, his father and Blaise cheered their team on, Draco's eyes wandered off to the opposite side of the stadium. Another V.I.P. box opposite from theirs was totally crammed with people. The entire group was wearing replicas of Weasley's orange Chudley Cannons shirt. Draco himself hadn't bothered to dress in Puddlemere colors. He was in his customary black._

_And so was one of the people in the orange-clad group._

_He heard his companions booing, and noticed that the Cannons had been able to score past the Puddlemere Keeper. Draco looked at the crowd in the box, again, but all he could see were people in orange. The woman in black was covered by the enthusiastic watchers who had risen from their seats to cheer for the Cannons._

_He closed his eyes to clear his vision. He might have just imagined she was there._

_But it was so odd that he felt this tremendous comfort when he saw her._


	6. A Day of Quidditch

_I must warn you that Draco is a bit emo in this chapter. Please please please tell me if you don't like my portrayal of Draco's emotions. I don't think I like how I did it, either, as I'm not exactly in a good condition to write. This chapter CAN be rewritten if it's not satisfactory for my beloved audience. However, even if Draco's emotions need to be revised, the events of Chapter 7 (which I have already written) still won't change, so enjoy the preview. ;)  
_

_I am so sorry for the cliffhanger. I couldn't help it. Heehee._

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_Chapter 6 – A Day of Quidditch_

Draco Malfoy was on his way to the Quidditch World Cup. Today was the first match, you see, and aside from supporting Puddlemere United, he was one of the few rich men who funded this year's tournament.

His father Lucius, best friend Blaise and daughter Selena were with him, as were Blaise's son and daughter. Draco had been playing Quidditch since he was a child. He caught his first Snitch against his instructor on his first day of lessons. Draco had been watching Quidditch since he was a child, as well, although he never fully enjoyed a game again after the events of the night of the match between the Irish and the Bulgarians when he was fourteen.

In all honesty, Draco wasn't in the World Cup pitch today for his team, or for the love of Quidditch. He was just here to accompany his daughter. Watching a match didn't really hold much consequence for him anymore, and he doubted something different would happen today.

Men inclined their heads to him and his father and Blaise as they made their way up the stairs to the V.I.P. box. The women would smile at the children. He heard one of them say, "Oh, Merlin, I thought she was Daphne," referring to Selena, who was clutching on to his hand.

Selena looked as put together and polished as always. Of course Narcissa wouldn't have her granddaughter going out of the mansion any other way. Since it was the middle of summer, she had on an ivory silk dress, with a royal blue cotton blazer. Diana was dressed almost similarly, but with a blue dress and white blazer. Both girls and Raymond had Puddlemere hats on.

Lucius and Blaise were not to be out-dressed by the children. The former's tie was blue on top of an all-black suit, and the latter in khakis and a dark blue long-sleeved sweater.

Their box on the Puddlemere side of the pitch was level with the Chasers' flying field, making it the perfect spot to catch all the action. Two rows of plush seats ran across the box, and the three children sat in the first, while the older men stayed behind them.

The horn sounded, and a commentator with an irritating voice announced the players' names as they came in. The Chudley Cannons flew into the field first, with their Keeper, Ron Weasley, introduced last. The Weasel had only one hand on his broom, the other waving to the crowd. Draco rolled his eyes, but Blaise had voiced out what all three of them were thinking.

"Loser," Blaise hissed.

"Oh, do you know Ron Weasley, Uncle Blaise?" Selena asked.

"He was a Gryffindor, my dear," Lucius explained, as if that simple sentence explained it all.

The kids scrunched their noses. "Loser," they agreed in unison.

"How's the Quidditch scene in Hogwarts, Ray?" Draco asked his godson.

"Slytherin's stronger than ever –" Raymond cut himself off as his father and godfather raised their eyebrows at him. "But not as strong as when the two of you were on the team," he covered.

"Are you going to try out for the team next year, son?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, of course. Dad's been training me my whole life," Raymond replied. "Keeper."

"That's my boy," Blaise gloated. "Isn't Slytherin looking for a new Seeker?"

"This guy in my year called Laurence Everett III's going to try his luck," Raymond snorted. "He's a total prick, but I guess he's a pretty decent Quidditch player."

"Everett...didn't we know an Everett in Slytherin?" Draco asked Blaise.

"Yeah," his friend replied. "The guy was a total dork. I remember Crabbe beating him up."

"Hey, Raymond, how's the competition?" Draco inquired.

"Gryffindor had no one good on their team," the boy said. "But they're hopeful because Harry Potter's son's coming to Hogwarts in September."

Draco saw the two little girls exchange a look from the corner of his eye.

"But I guess he won't be able to play until I'm in third year," Raymond continued. "They still haven't lifted the ban on first years."

"If I know Potter and his bloody ego, he's going to pull strings with that fucking scar of his to get his son into the pitch before he's in second year," Blaise whispered furiously.

"My granddaughter can kick any Potter's arse on the Quidditch pitch any day," Lucius bragged.

"Except she doesn't want to, and her grandmother will write her off her will if she ever does," Selena pointed out. She and Diana were still ogling at the Puddlemere United players. He recognized one of the buggers who had his daughter's full attention. It was Oliver Wood, formerly of Gryffindor.

"Look at her! Just eleven and already talking about wills," Blaise laughed.

"All our children do these days, you know," Draco said.

"Oh, you don't need to hang on to your grandmother for her money, little girl," Lucius tapped his granddaughter lightly on the head. "You know the entire fortune's going to you anyway."

"Unless Daddy has other children after me," Selena hummed distractedly.

Blaise was taken aback by his goddaughter's statement. "Does she know something I know, Malfoy? Back in the market, are we?"

"I was completely off the market the day I married her mother, git," Draco sneered. He flinched after mentioning his deceased wife.

Blaise chose not to press on, because he knew how sour Draco's mood turned whenever the subject of Daphne entered the conversation.

A horn blew, signalling that the Golden Snitch had been released and that the game had started. As usual, Puddlemere scored a huge lead over the Cannons.

Draco's eyes were following the brooms zooming past them, but his mind wasn't.

As the three children, his father and Blaise cheered their team on, Draco's eyes wandered off to the opposite side of the stadium. Another V.I.P. box opposite from theirs was totally crammed with people. The entire group was wearing replicas of Weasley's orange Chudley Cannons shirt. Draco himself hadn't bothered to dress in Puddlemere colors. He was in his customary black.

And so was one of the people in the orange-clad group.

He heard his companions booing, and noticed that the Cannons had been able to score past the Puddlemere Keeper. Draco looked at the crowd in the box, again, but all he could see were people in orange. The woman in black was covered by the enthusiastic watchers who had risen from their seats to cheer for the Cannons.

He closed his eyes to clear his vision. He might have just imagined she was there.

But it was so odd that he felt this tremendous comfort when he saw her.

Before he could make a grab for his Omnioculars to peer at the woman in black, Blaise yelled, "There, Halestrom! _THERE_!" Arvin Halestrom, Puddlemere United's Seeker, was flying directly under the Snitch. Halestrom fully knew that the Snitch was hovering over him, but he was pretending to be looking around so that the Cannons' buffoon of a Seeker, Mallis, would think that he hadn't found it yet.

"Merlin, I think he's found it, Selena!" Diana exclaimed.

Draco snapped back to the game. The scoreboard showed that, for some unbelievable reason, the score was 550-400, in favor of the Chudley Cannons.

"But he can't get the Snitch _now_, sister," Raymond fretted. "The Cannons are leading by a hundred and fifty!"

"They have to score. They have to score a Quaffle before Halestrom gets the Snitch so there won't be a tie," Selena deduced.

Just as she spoke those words, the Cannons Seeker stopped in front of their box and heard what she had said. He searched for Halestrom, and when he located his opponent, he turned towards the Malfoy group, winked, and said, "Thanks."

The girls gasped and clutched hands. "Cheater!" Blaise called. Mallis sped through the Chasers and Beaters to where Halestrom was floating on the other side of the pitch. Halestrom saw him from afar, and raised his arm near the Snitch, but didn't close his hand around it. He looked around anxiously to see where the Quaffle was. His eyes met with Wood's, who was acting as Keeper.

Oliver Wood nodded at Halestrom. He blocked the Quaffle that one of the Cannons Chasers had sent hurling towards the rings with a powerful swing of his broom. In a split second, the Quaffle flew furiously fast across the pitch. The Puddlemere Chaser who was flying nearest the rings caught the ball, hit it past the Cannons Keeper, and mere inches before Mallis could get his hands on the Snitch, Halestrom claimed it and won the game for Puddlemere.

Everyone on the Puddlemere side got up on their feet and roared.

"Puddlemere wins 560-550!" the commentator boomed. "Merlin's pants, what a game!"

Draco picked Selena up and raised her on his shoulders.

"We won!" she cried, hugging his head. "And that Hervey Mallis is a jerk."

Selena was drilling her father on about the highlights of the game. Draco was half-listening. Their hands were together, as usual, swinging between them as they descended the stairs from their box. Their companions had already gone down ahead of them.

"Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy!" a crowd of teen-aged boys called to him as they clapped each other on the back. "The Cannons are out of the tournament!"

Draco flashed them a brief smile. He held Selena by the shoulders to keep from losing her.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" he heard Blaise shout. Blaise fought his way against the crowd to where Draco and Selena were standing.

"Where are your kids?" Draco asked.

"They're with my father in the V.I.P. room," Blaise replied. Draco's face easily tensed. "Come on," Blaise sighed. "Just an hour, please? You're barely out of that manor."

Selena tugged at his hand and he looked at her. "Let's go, Dad," she urged. "I want to meet the Puddlemere players."

"Meet the Puddlemere players, my arse," Draco teased, lifting Selena in his arms. "You just want to stare at Oliver Wood."

Blaise winked at his goddaughter. This was Draco's way of conceding.

"Yes, and since you know him from school, you can introduce me to him!" Selena grinned.

"I thought we Malfoys are against loser Gryffindors," Draco muttered.

"Oh, Daddy, he's different!" Selena laughed. "He's in Puddlemere!"

The V.I.P. lounge had been Lucius' idea. During one of the planning meetings for the World Cup, Draco had brought his father along, and the wise old man had suggested there be a place where the sponsors could meet with the players and chat about the game. There were a full bar, oversized leather chairs and ottomans, and the walls were covered by the banners of the teams playing in the tournament.

"See, mate? You should have listened to me and invested in the World Cup. Look at the perks!" Draco drawled.

"Or, I could just tail you and save myself from having to shell out money that I could use to buy myself a new Lamborghini," Blaise threw back.

"As if you ever run out of money," Draco rolled his eyes.

"I still don't know what you do for a living, Uncle Blaise," Selena piped up.

"Me neither," Blaise muttered.

"He _doesn't_ do anything, sweetie," Draco said. He lowered Selena to the floor because two players from Puddlemere United had just approached them.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm Arvin Halestrom," the young Seeker said. He offered his hand to Draco, who shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise, Halestrom. That was a great first game," Draco approved.

"Thank you, sir."

"Why aren't you retired yet?" Draco jokingly asked the man who stood beside Halestrom. "I'm getting terribly sick of seeing you win every year."

"Let's hope Puddlemere wins this year, and you might not have to see me anymore," Oliver Wood joked.

"Good to see you, man," Draco laughed, shaking Wood's hand. "I didn't know they let people who were over sixty to play in the World Cup. Causes problems for them, you know – heart attacks, strokes, and the like."

"Oh, Malfoy, you're still that good-for-nothing prick from Slytherin, and Zabini here's still your sidekick, I see," Wood shook his head, smiling. "Glad to see you did something decent for once in your life and brought along this beautiful child – aside from sponsoring the World Cup." He stroked Selena's chin. "This must be Daphne's little Selena."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Wood. That was a very nice save," Selena commented, all the while with her hand held out to him.

Wood raised his eyebrows at her hand then shook it. "Well, isn't she something, Malfoy." He bent down so he was eye-level with her. "I bet lots of people have told you that you're just as lovely as your mother."

Selena smiled in response.

Oliver Wood straightened back up. "Spoken to any of the Cannons yet, Malfoy? Zabini?"

"No, but I believe dear Lucius' over there's trying to steer clear of any Weasleys," Blaise said. "I don't know how much luck he'll have with that, though. The room's _swarming_ with them."

"I heard my name," said a voice from behind Halestrom. Ron Weasley squeezed into the circle with Hervey Mellis. "Nice game, Wood, Halestrom."

"Thanks," the two men from Puddlemere muttered.

"Oh, hey, Malfoy, Zabini," Weasley said curtly.

"Selena, darling, this is Ron Weasley, the Chudley Cannons Keeper," Wood said to Selena. "And this is their Seeker, Her –"

"No need for introductions. She already knows me," Hervey Mallis said cockily. "This little lady helped me find the Snitch during the match."

"Still didn't catch it though," Wood whispered to Halestrom. Oliver was totally pissed off by this Mallis fellow, and he would be by Weasley too, if he just didn't smell by Ron's breath that he was drunk.

Selena tugged at Draco's hand and pleaded with her green eyes to take her away from the Cannons Seeker.

"We'll go ahead and get drinks at the bar," Draco said, eyeing Blaise. "Good to see you all, gentlemen. Fantastic match."

"Will you take me to my grandfather, Uncle?" Selena asked when the three of them reached the bar. Blaise took her by the hand, and Draco heard him gasping, "You'd rather your grandfather's company over mine? Unbelievable," as they walked away.

"Champagne for you, Mr. Malfoy?" the bartender, a young man of around twenty, asked.

Champagne was intended for celebrations. He assumed everyone in the lounge who had a flute of the gold-colored liquid was a Puddlemere supporter. However, there was a bottle of vintage scotch in his study that _literally_ had his name on it – a gift from Blaise, who sent it the day after Selena's birthday with a friendly note – and scotch seemed like the perfect thing to drown anyone's sorrows.

But Draco didn't feel like celebrating, nor did he feel miserable.

He was just so...

_Numb_, he kept repeating over and over in his head, though he knew what he was _supposed_ to feel. People were expecting that he'd be elated because his team had just won the first match of the Quidditch World Cup.

At least numb was better than any other emotion that had negative connotations. He'd been feeling numb since the night of Selena's birthday. He was just so confused that night. He was happy because it was the day of his daughter's birth, but he was saddened because of seeing Daphne in the portrait.

Just a bit more of everything that's been coming his way and he might burst. Draco shook his head. He was so tired of thinking about his feelings all the time.

"Puddlemere is in celebration, isn't it?" he simply said to the bartender, not giving a specific answer as to what he wanted. The fellow assumed that as he was a Puddlemere sponsor, he would be participating in the team's victory, and handed him a flute.

Draco downed the drink as soon as the glass without any thought. He could care less about Puddlemere. He could care less about Quidditch or who won the fucking World Cup.

"You're supposed to enjoy it, you know," said a condescending voice. "You don't swallow champagne like any other dirty drink."

He spun the bar stool he was sitting on around and smirked at the woman in front of him, who was dressed entirely in black, just like himself.

"Aha," she cocked her head to one side. It was a move that made her look like such an innocent little...vixen. "I _knew_ I saw you."

Merlin, was he glad to find something to distract him. Draco straightened up and smirked at her.

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**_A Preview from Chapter 7 - A Day of Quidditch, Part II_**

_"It's wonderful to see you, believe me."_

_She laughed sweetly, but just as she had tilted her head a while ago, he caught a hint of something sharp underneath. She'd always been like that._

_"I wish I could say the same for you, Draco Malfoy," she hummed, "but I cannot forget what you did to me in the Yule Ball."  
_


	7. A Day of Quidditch, Part II

**Hello, dear readers! First off, allow me to apologize for being inactive for such a long time. I'm really sorry, and I don't want to give any excuses, so I won't. Let's leave it at that. Second, I don't know what to think of this chapter. I've been considering changing my writing style for some time now, which is why I hadn't decided to upload a new chapter until now even though I wrote this chapter months ago. I thought that changing my writing style wouldn't be a good move for this story, but I can't stop myself from improving as a writer either, so I've decided to change my writing style gradually. I hope that by doing that, I'd be able to stop using a limited narrative so that the story would have more depth and the feelings and thoughts of _all_ the characters would be more evident. Thank you very much for still sticking with this story even though I am the worst updater in the world. I've received many favorite story/author notifications, and I appreciate that a lot. As I've said before, please feel free to comment, review or send me a message to express your opinions and suggestions for this story.**

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_Chapter 7 – A Day of Quidditch, Part II_

The numbness had washed away. Now it was replaced by confusion.

Yes, he realized he was extremely lucky to be in the presence of such a beautiful woman. Yes, she was married, and yes, her husband was taller and stronger than he was, but honest to Merlin, the only thing he wanted was someone to talk to.

Hopefully, he could extract some information from her. The French _are _notoriously chatty.

To anyone outside the Wizarding high society, they would have looked like siblings. Both were blonde, he handsome and she beautiful, pale with pointed faces, long slender frames, and fine clothing. She actually looked like a teenaged, eternally youthful version of his mother. They could even have been of the same species. It embarrassed Draco, but the fact was that more often than not, people would think that _he_ was a Veela.

But of course, male Veelas didn't exist. At least as far as Draco knew.

Some of the people passing by the full bar in the World Cup Patrons' Lounge stole a few glances at them. Draco noticed it in the corner of his eye, but it seemed to him that his companion wasn't aware of it, as she was preoccupied with thoroughly studying him.

It was a shame - Draco and his father had always thought - that this beautiful creature had married into such an impoverished, classless family. If she had been of the same nationality as he, a few years younger and her family influential in British Wizarding society, old Lucius might have considered her as a wife for his son based on appearances alone. Alas, Fleur Delacour had doomed herself to a deprived life with Bill Weasley a year before Draco married Daphne.

Fleur was as striking as always. Even her Veela charm worked on him, despite the fact that his heart was buried deep into the Earth with his deceased wife. Her flaxen waves were topped by a typical French beret in black. Her dress, an off-shoulder long-sleeved number also in black, hugged her slim body.

All in black, spellbindingly beautiful and associated with the Weasleys – but she was not the one he'd seen. In fact, he didn't even see her in the pitch, although he was sure she was here with the Weasleys, supporting that sorry excuse of a Quidditch team.

"It's wonderful to see you here, believe me," he said.

"I wish I could say the same to you, Draco Malfoy," she hummed, turning her head away from his face and pointing that up-curved nose even higher. "But I still cannot forget what you did to me in the Yule Ball."

Draco replayed to that night during his fourth year in Hogwarts. He could say the year was hardly educational, and instead filled with pure pleasure: sneaking out after curfew with Blaise to spy on the enchanted carriage that housed the Beauxbatons students, hoping one of the French tarts would come out, spending late nights betting on which one of the girls would be the easiest lay, and comparing the foreign women to the local toads they were accustomed to.

* * *

_The night was still young, but the two Slytherin troublemakers were already on their fifth bottles of Firewhiskey. Malfoy and Zabini were left in a corner of the Great Hall by their dates – Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, respectively – for their unwillingness to step onto the dance floor._

_ "Oh, those losers aren't good enough to see what Draco and I can do, right, mate?" Blaise had snorted, recalling the lessons their mothers had put them through before they started Hogwarts._

_ Draco rubbed his eyes with two fingers after consuming the last drop of what he decided would be his last bottle. He had to get Pansy back to the Slytherin dormitories without passing out, or else he would never hear the end of it the next day._

_ "Oi, Malfoy, is that Fe-lurr I see?" Blaise drunkenly giggled. Draco squinted, though he couldn't see clearly anymore._

_ "I think so. She's the one wearing that silver thing, right?"_

_ "Oh, yeah!" Blaise burped. "The one that looks like my mother's curtains!" Burp._

_ On Roger Davies' arm, Fleur changed courses and pulled her date to where the two boys were sitting. As Blaise raised a fresh bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips, the French maiden yanked it from his hand._

_ "Fuck, I seem to have lost my drink," Blaise laughed. "Oh. Hello there, Fe-lurr," he said her name in two syllables. Another drunken giggle._

_ "Fleur, I think we should just retire for the night and leave these two idiots alone," her Ravenclaw escort sneered. "They are only nothing but _Slytherins_."_

_ "Go ahead, Roger," Fleur said in her nasal, French-afflicted English. "I will teach _le monsieurs_ some manners."_

_ Roger glanced at the Slytherins, then at Fleur, then at the Slytherins again. Ultimately, he bowed to Fleur, and left the Great Hall._

_ "I was under ze impression zat Englishmen are far more cultured zan others," she said._

_ "Well, _I_ was under the impression that French women are the most beautiful creatures on Earth," Draco retorted. He wasn't really looking at her, just tracing the rim of a bottle with his finger. It was the only thing he could do to distract himself from hurling all over Fleur's shoes. Merlin's ass, his head was spinning._

_ Fleur made a sound as she took offense at Draco's comment. "At least, we look better zan zat girl you brought to ze ball. You know, ze one zat looks like her face was punched in."_

_ "Oh, insult her all you like, _mademoiselle,_" Draco chuckled. He leaned back in his chair, undid his bowtie, and looked up at her. He could hardly see her, his vision so clouded by everything he drank. "But you still have _nothing_ over Granger. She looks like the sweetest thing in this entire place, and I for one would love to taste how sweet she really is."_

_ "Who?" Fleur shrieked. "Is zat what you call Viktor's date?"_

_ "We call her lots of things, actually," Blaise piped up, his speech slurred. "Daphne looks pretty...pretty." Giggle._

_ "Daphne's _always_ pretty," Draco replied. "Granger cleans up pretty well."_

_ "I bet 20 galleons it took her a couple hours to tame that forest growing on her head," Blaise said, totally forgetting that Fleur was still standing there._

_ The two boys looked at each other then started laughing. They toasted to their drunkenness.

* * *

_

Of course, Fleur's grasp of the English language had improved since Draco last saw her. Still, he couldn't help thinking she was still holding on to the nasal sound to intentionally annoy people.

The bartender slid another flute of champagne to Draco. He took a tentative sip from it as Fleur watched him with warning eyes.

"I hardly did anything to you, _madame_," Draco chuckled. "But I do admit, I was quite rude to you that evening, and that was inexcusable. Accept my apologies, please."

"That's nice to hear, Malfoy," she said, although she still didn't offer him a smile.

"However," Draco began, "If you're expecting an apology from Blaise for that curtain comment, I'd discourage you."

"I don't expect much from Monsieur Zabini," Fleur rolled her blue eyes. "Best thing he ever did was to marry that Greengrass girl."

"I didn't see you in the pitch." Draco hurriedly changed the topic, predicting that any mention of the Greengrasses would eventually bring his wife up.

"You were sitting in the Puddlemere side."

"Yes, I was. In the box right across from where the Weasleys were sitting in the Cannons side."

"Then, of course you wouldn't see me, for I was in the Puddlemere side, a level lower than your box," she revealed. Draco couldn't help his mouth from falling open.

"That's just _fresh_!" Draco exclaimed. "What a slap in the face to poor old Weasel. The most decent-looking person in his family cheered the opposing team on."

"Oh, he can save those big baby tears. He's always known that Bill supports Puddlemere," Fleur shared, referring to her husband. "Molly, Arthur, Percy, George, Ginny, Harry, the kids and Hermione were in the Cannons box." One. "And heaven knows that Molly and Arthur were the only ones who were there _willingly_. Hermione even had to coax the children with candy to keep them from complaining about sitting in the Cannons side." Two.

_Two times_, Draco swallowed.

"Hermione's wonderful with the children, you know," Fleur continued. "She'd make a great mother. It's a shame she's not married yet, but if you ask me," she lowered her voice, "That pathetic brother-in-law of mine is only fooling himself if he thinks she'd agree to marry _him_."

_Three_, plus some information Draco had hoped to get from her.

"Speaking of that angel," Fleur hummed. Her eyes trailed to the door of the lounge, and Draco's followed.

A tall man had just walked into the lounge. Dressed in plain Muggle jeans and a black shirt underneath a blue Puddlemere jacket, he would have been handsome if it just weren't for his ginger hair and the bloody red gash that marred his face. Draco placed him at 6'2". On his arm was a woman a few heads shorter than him. She was dressed similarly to the man who escorted her into the room, although her jeans were black and she wasn't wearing a jacket. Her hair was pulled up into a messy high ponytail with curly strands tucked behind her ears.

Draco had always preferred brunettes to blondes.

"Bill, Charlie, Percy and George all adore her, of course," Fleur whispered as she raised a graceful hand to wave to her husband and Hermione Granger. "So protective of her, as if she's their sister like Ginny. She's especially close to Charlie, you know, always so curious and worried over the scars he gets from his dragons. If he weren't married and in Romania, I think he'd take a liking to her."

Draco tipped back his champagne. His lady in black was finally right in front of him.

"_Bonsoir, ma cherie,_" Fleur kissed Hermione Granger on both cheeks. Bill Weasley gave his wife a quick peck on the lips.

"Hello, Fleur," Hermione smiled. "Did you enjoy the match?"

"_Oui, oui_, but I know that _you_ didn't, as usual," Fleur laughed.

"Great fan of Quidditch, this little sister of mine," her husband said sarcastically. Hermione blushed.

"Look who I found!" the French woman laid a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Draco Malfoy," Bill Weasley boomed. He grabbed Draco's hand and shook it.  
"You're all over the news, you little bugger, sponsoring the World Cup and all that!"

"Yeah." Draco couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Hermy and I just came from the Cannons locker room," Bill said, tugging Hermione's ponytail playfully. Draco couldn't help but notice that she cringed from being called "Hermy", but she managed a patient smile. "My brother has a bit of a sore loser issue," he shared in a stage whisper.

"Wasn't he here in the lounge?" Draco asked.

"Oh, no, you know Ron," Hermione Granger said. "Someone from the Puddlemere side apparently said something that offended his Hervey Mallis, and the pair of them went off to the lockers."

Bill and Fleur both let out an exasperated sigh.

"We saw Oliver Wood, darling," Bill told Fleur. "He was wondering where you were."

"Let's go then, shall we, dear?" Fleur stood from the barstool and snaked her arm around her husband's. To Draco, "Thank you for the company, Monsieur Malfoy."

She held out her hand expectantly to Draco. He took it, kissed her knuckles, "The pleasure's all mine, Madame Weasley."

Draco turned back to his empty flute as Fleur floated away with Bill.

"Didn't think I'd see you so soon again, Granger," he said.

"I knew I'd see you here, anyway," Hermione replied, taking the seat Fleur had vacated. "As Bill said, you really _are_ all over the news."

"I never really saw you as a Quidditch aficionado, you know."

"I'm not, nor will I ever be," she quipped. "I prefer sports that you can play on _terra firma_. The only reason I'm here's so I won't hurt Ron's feelings."

"Totally obvious that you're no Quidditch expert, though, you know. Shows in your choice of team," he snickered. Was the champagne going to his head?

"I'm not a fan of the Chudley Cannons. They fail miserably at recruiting players, and even I would know that."

"Nice bracelet," Draco laughed, eyeing the bright orange Cannons band around her wrist.

Hermione's hand flew immediately to the bracelet. "Ron gave it to me before the game, after seeing that I didn't have anything orange on my person."

"I see," he said simply.

Draco couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, although a river of words was waiting to flow out. He couldn't even look at her, because he knew that if he did, he'd end up staring and she'd catch him.

Why the hell was he feeling so squirmy with Hermione Granger? She was no Fleur, no exceptional beauty. But he had to admit, Granger had more personality than that foreign sweetheart would ever have. How many girls would dare to _actually_ punch Draco Malfoy, hurt his ego and get away with it?

He was so scared of saying the wrong thing because she was so smart and witty and clever and...

Friendly.

He didn't want to say the wrong thing that'd drive her away, for he didn't want to lose any sort of kindness she was offering.

"I saw you," Hermione Granger said, distracting him from his thoughts.

"What?" he made out unintelligibly.

"Err...I mean, I saw you...in your box," she blushed. It didn't occur to him that she didn't know what to say either, for fear of saying the wrong thing. "With Selena, right? And Lucius. And Blaise."

"And Blaise's children."

"Oh, they're beautiful. All three of them are." Hermione drummed her fingers on the bar. "They're really cute, jumping up and down and cheering."

"So were Potter's kids."

Hermione didn't reply, but she started laughing. "Don't tell Ron, but Harry's kids were really cheering for _Puddlemere_."

"What do you think about Weasley playing Quidditch for a living?"

"He makes good money out of it, but he can't play Quidditch his _entire_ life," Hermione sighed. "He's going to get too old and weak that he won't be able to hold on to his broom, and when that time comes, what'll he do with himself? And I told him when he first started that he can play all he wants, but when he breaks his bones or falls off his broom, he's not allowed to come running to me, because the only thing I'd say is 'I told you so.'" She laughed again.

Draco surprised himself by laughing. He could imagine Weasley falling off a broom and plunging fifty feet to the ground.

"Still the same old self-righteous Granger," he shook his head, chuckling.

"But you're not the same old Malfoy."

His smile fell.

She noticed it.

Her hand crept towards his arm, hesitated midway with those small fingers curling in, but finally rested lightly on his wrist. He could see her bright orange bracelet peripherally.

"Please...I didn't mean that offensively," she said quickly, a stream of words gushing out. "I just meant...well...I just meant that I think you're, err...well, I really don't know what to say because you might be offended."

His hand lay on top of hers. Hermione had been looking down shamefully because she'd been afraid she'd offended him, but now her eyes darted to his face.

"Go on, please. I didn't take any offense, at all."

Hermione bit her lip, unsure if she should tell him what she thought of him. He kept on a straight expression, his hand still covering hers, hers still on his wrist.

"Well," she breathed. "I just can't identify you with the Malfoy I knew in Hogwarts...you're just really...pleasant and courteous, and more mature."

"That a compliment, Granger?" he smirked at her.

Her expression shifted slowly. First, it was a close-lipped smile. Then, it got wider, and as she giggled, her straight white teeth showed.

"Yes, it is, Draco."

His smirk turned into a smile. "Thanks."

"No, problem."

She caught herself frowning as he took his hand from hers, forcing her to take hers back.

"You seem really...serious now."

"I do?"

"Yeah...yeah," she nodded. "The Malfoy I remember was a naughty troublemaker, and a bit of a fun lover." Another laugh. "You're just really different."

"The war can do that to you," he sighed.

"I remember you and Blaise in the Yule Ball," she grinned. He sensed that she didn't want any mention of the war. "Pansy and Daphne had deserted you. You two were getting wasted on Firewhiskey. That was the silliest I ever saw you. You were so _drunk_!" Laugh. "And then, Fleur came up to you with Roger Davies, looking really pissed. Roger went away, and I thought Fleur was going to throw a bitch fit." Laugh. "Then you and Blaise started chuckling and Fleur stormed off."

Draco wondered if Hermione would still be laughing if she knew what he, Fleur and Blaise had discussed that night.

He cracked a smile. "Bartender, a couple more flutes please!"

"Are we toasting anything, Draco?" she asked as the bartender served champagne.

"Yes, Granger, we are."

"To what, then?"

Hermione had cocked her head to one side, smiling up at him all the while. Her brown eyes had a curious glint, upper teeth biting the lower lip. She was lazily holding on to her flute, her elbow resting on the bar, wrist bent.

His chest tightened.

"To you," he admitted, "because I remember how you looked that night. And you look even better tonight."

Hermione's pale cheeks turned pink. Suddenly feeling shy, she tapped her flute to Draco's.

"To you, Draco Malfoy," Hermione grinned, "because I've always thought you were a good person, and now it's truly evident."

She took down her champagne in one gulp. His eyes were glued to her. Then she giggled.

"You know, Fleur always tells me off for doing that. _Enjoy _it, she says. But I just really prefer drinking champagne that way." She laughed, and Draco joined in.

By Merlin, the champagne really was going to his head, and he wanted to kiss her.

Daphne would forgive him for just one night of unrestraint, right?

Of course she would.

But would _he_ forgive himself?

"Oh, hello," he heard Hermione say as he contemplated. He noticed his fingers were laced with someone else's.

Draco looked down and saw his enchanting green-eyed daughter standing beside him, staring at Hermione Granger.

"Draco...?" Hermione whispered. She was fixated on Selena, as well.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "Hermione, remember my daughter –"

"Selena Demetria Narcissa Greengrass Malfoy," Selena cut in, her hand held out to Hermione. Draco noted that his daughter always introduced herself that way, adding emphasis to her connection to Daphne Greengrass. Her tone was not snobby, nor was it friendly, but just the proper mix of detached politeness she'd learned from her grandmother.

Hermione took Selena's hand, squeezed not shook, and said, "Hermione Granger."

"It's nice to meet you."

"You, as well," Hermione smiled. "She's a darling, Draco."

"Blame it all on my mother," Draco chuckled, lifting his precious little girl on to his lap. "What have you been up to, S?"

"Well, that's the thing. That's why I came up here," Selena replied. "Grandfather and Uncle Blaise and Raymond and Diana and I were down in the pitch with the Puddlemere team. Uncle Blaise and Raymond got on some brooms and started flying around with the team, but of course, Diana and I didn't because Grandmama would get mad at us if we get our dresses dirty."

"Raymond and Diana are Blaise's children," Draco told Hermione over Selena's shoulder.

"Oh, do you know my godfather?" Selena turned to Hermione.

"From school, yes –"

"Anyway," Selena continued. "Uncle Blaise was showing off and doing tricks with his broom, and he _collided_ with Raymond!"

"What? Is my godson hurt?" Draco demanded.

"No, Daddy! It was Uncle _Blaise_ who fell off his broom!"

Hermione couldn't keep herself from laughing, causing Draco and Selena to look at her. Draco, himself, wanted to laugh, as well. Selena, however, kept a serious face.

"Daddy, Uncle Blaise fell from his broom, and now he's asking for his mummy!" Selena fretted. "He doesn't have a mummy anymore, so I assume he was asking for Aunt Astoria, and we need to get him home_ now_. I don't think he'd be able to Apparate by himself, either."

"Bugger," Draco said under his breath.

"What about the Healers assigned to the World Cup? Can't they help him?" Hermione asked.

"He doesn't want to be helped," Selena replied. "Not by anyone who isn't his mummy...or Aunt Astoria. Something's wrong with his arm, though."

Draco sighed. "I guess we'll have to cut this short, Granger." He placed Selena back on her feet and stood up. "That arse's gotten himself into trouble again."

"I do miss him," Hermione said. "I hope he feels better. Say hello to him for me when he does."

"Sure." Draco didn't know how to say goodbye to her. Was he allowed to kiss her cheek, or give her a hug? Was she going to hold her hand out for him to kiss? Was he just supposed to leave?

It didn't help him make his mind that Selena was tugging his hand imperiously.

Granger wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his.

"Be safe," she smiled at him. To his daughter, "It was nice to meet you, Selena."

Selena flashed Hermione a brief smile, then led her father out the door.

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**Yes, I realize that this chapter was badly written, everything is cheesy and Draco seems to be falling for Hermione too soon. I'm really very sorry; I was intending for him to be hard-shelled and give her a difficult time trying to break in. I need a beta very badly. Beta recommendations and/or offers, please? I'm generally very easy to work with and open to suggestions. Just send me a message. :) Thanks.**


	8. A Trip to Diagon Alley

**This won't take long, but please let me apologize for taking...A YEAR? I'm sorry. It's a long chapter in which a lot is explained, to make up for the time I took to update. Enjoy!**

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_Chapter 8 – A Trip to Diagon Alley_

"Aldous, pass the proposals around," Draco Malfoy asked of his assistant.

He was in his element right now, his aura exuding the confidence and control befitting the head of the House of Malfoy, not to mention the chief executive of said family's company and chairman of its board of shareholders. Said board was now convened in Malfoy Manor, with a few interns and a couple of assistants joining them.

There was quite a number of people, but they were all comfortable in the spacious Slytherin Parlor, a second floor room in the west wing of the mansion, so aptly called mainly because it was decorated in Slytherin House's colors, with dark green walls, and silver and crystal ornaments that included a chandelier Madam Malfoy had commissioned from Swarovski. Arranged in a circle, the chairs the board members were sitting on were plush winged armchairs upholstered in expensive black leather.

The name of the parlor was also quite fitting, because the rooms verdant walls were almost obscured by the many portraits of the former heads of the House of Malfoy, sans Draco's father, all who had been Sorted into Slytherin. The portraits were used to listening in on the bimonthly-held meetings, giving their opinions, but always waiting for Draco to ask for it in deference to him.

Everyone in the room – board members, ancestors, secretaries and interns alike – held Draco Malfoy in high esteem. Even his father, Lucius Malfoy, respected the authority Draco had. The family's capital investment company had been around even before the term 'capital investment' was coined. The ancient Wizarding family had always had money to invest, you see. It had always flourished, thanks to the Malfoys' knack for finance. The Malfoys were quite relieved to still have their company to fall back on after the war, which was when Lucius decided to hand the reins over to his only son, his only heir, and the only person he would ever count on to take good care of the family legacy.

Draco, of course, had not disappointed, and Lucius had been confident of it. Revenues were up by thirty percent since Lucius' time as head of the company. His son had always demonstrated interest in the company, and possessed a Malfoy's natural flair for leadership, business and good instinct. It was also to the company's benefit that Draco was quite intelligent.

The same was evident in Lucius' granddaughter and Draco's heir apparent, Selena. The eleven-year-old girl sat primly on an ottoman between her father and grandfather, very much within the circle - literally and figuratively. If the younger Mr. Malfoy never manages to sire a son, Selena would be the one to take over the company, and the board members acknowledged that. They hoped differently though, despite the fact that they were all impressed by the pretty little Malfoy princess, because that would mean the end of the Malfoy name. However, they were not confident, because Draco Malfoy seemed intent on remaining a bachelor.

They couldn't blame him, most of the board members thought. After already having the perfect woman for a wife, it would be impossible for Draco to settle for anyone else.

Draco observed the board keenly as Aldous waved his wand, sending folders flying to the men. Though he was a powerful Legilimens, he did not need this talent to know what the men around him were thinking.

These men were representatives of families as ancient, as wealthy and as pureblooded as the Malfoys who had always been allies of one another. Most of them were old and conservative, so it helped that there were relatively new members like his friend Theo and himself. Theo, like Draco, had been thrust into his own family's seat of power by his father's death in the war. As they perused the contents of the file, Draco reached for one from the stack an intern standing behind him was holding, and handed it to his daughter.

"Thank you." Selena accepted the proffered folder, and added, "But I've already read it."

Her father smirked and rolled his eyes at himself, remembering that Selena had been sitting in his office with him yesterday, as usual, when Aldous had delivered the file for him to check before the meeting.

She still opened it and rested it on her lap with her hands folded delicately on it, waiting patiently for the men to finish up.

"How interesting," her grandfather hummed to himself. Selena knew what he was referring to, and it was something she hoped strongly that the board would support.

"Why don't we start with this, then, if you don't mind, gentlemen," Draco announced. "George and Ronald Weasley have appealed for Malfoy Capital to invest in their enterprise, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. As you have read on the file, the former Mr. Weasley has developed a new line of products and needs a backer to finance production."

"Will someone elaborate on this 'revolutionary' line?" an aged board member spoke up from Draco's left.

"It's a collection of Shielding products," Theodore Nott answered, "like the ones they produced when I was sixteen. The Ministry ordered most of their stock for Aurors and other employees, and so the products didn't reach the general populace."

"Why would anyone need Shielding products nowadays?" Perseus Parkinson quipped. "The war's over and You-Know-Who's gone for good. I hardly think any of the Aurors are ever on duty."

"The Ministry's still scouring for Dark artefacts in heavily warded locations. And more often than not, the locations are cursed themselves, let alone the artefacts," Lucius provided. "It takes up most of the Aurors' time, and then found objects are delivered and passed around numerous departments." And he would know; even after almost a decade, he was still paying his debt to the Wizarding world by aiding the Ministry whenever they called on him, and Dark objects were considered by the Ministry as Lucius' area of expertise.

"I'm sure the Ministry will buy out the Weasleys' Shield line, like they did before and possibly commission them for more," Lucius added. "The Ministry spends the most for the benefit of their Aurors, but they'd get more for the departments who handle the artefacts.

The young Nott supported, "Weasleys' is also very popular with children, who make up a majority of the Wizarding population. I think it's safe to say that Weasleys' will always be a hit, and we wouldn't be making mistake by investing in them. The company could also finance an expansion of the store, to cater to more consumers."

"If I may?" Selena said softly. Draco kept his hard gray eyes on the board, watching for reactions, but gestured for her to go ahead. "Have you seen that tiny place they have in Diagon Alley, Dad? Raymond always insists on visiting it, but Grandmama tries to bribe him enough to avoid having to go in. It isn't appealing to customers, that the store is always so crammed with people. An expansion would attract more customers."

"Don't they have other branches?" Lucius inquired. The corners of his lips had quirked slightly in humour at the mention of his wife doing something as typically Slytherin as bribing a boy she loved as a grandchild to get out of a situation that would be quite improper for a lady.

"No, it's just that one tiny shop," replied Selena. Draco could practically hear the gears turning in her pretty little head, knowing that she knew the appeal well and would have researched on it a bit more if she supported it. "But...I think it would bring in a lot of money if the Weasleys opened another store in Hogsmeade. Children are in Hogwarts for most of the year, and the store would make a lot especially during Hogsmeade weekends."

Draco nodded, as well as the other men in the room, taking in the girl's opinion. He watched as the portraits of his ancestors started hopping about to and from one another's frames; they were looking at his daughter with utmost approval.

"We'll arrange a meeting with the Weasley brothers then decide on the matter during the second meeting of the month," Draco confirmed. "Now, about this next proposal..."

The meeting carried on for an hour and a half, during which Lucius noticed that his granddaughter was fidgeting quite a bit. Selena was as ladylike as her grandmother, and her impatience was not apparent, but Lucius was as sharp an observer as ever. He took his granddaughter's hand, knowing the cause of her excitement.

Just as the board was coming to a conclusion regarding the last proposal on the file, a maid knocked on the door of the Slytherin Parlor, slipped noiselessly behind Draco's armchair, and informed him that Madam Zabini, young Master Zabini and Miss Zabini had arrived, and were waiting for them on the back patio.

Draco cordially adjourned the meeting and set the date for the next gathering. His daughter quickly placed her small hand in his, but not before giving her grandfather a high five, and giving Uncle Theo a farewell wave. Father and daughter walked out of the parlor; Lucius would see to entertaining the board members for a late lunch.

Aunt Astoria was already sipping tea when Selena and Draco walked out of the house and into the warm summer air. Selena strolled to her cousins by the fountain, so Draco sat with Astoria in the shade and kissed her on the cheek.

His best friend's wife, compared to him in his formal business robes, was dressed casually in clothes appropriate for the season. She was in a lightweight white blouse, tucked into a straight-cut and high-waist pale yellow silk skirt, the hem of which skimmed the floor even as she was seated. Her dark brown hair was rolled up into a decent chignon, making her average-sized eyes seem wider than usual. It was strange how Astoria's eyes were shaped differently from the way her sister's had been, despite that they had the same eye colour...

"Hello, Draco," Astoria greeted, breaking him out of his reverie. "I take it the meeting ran smoothly?"

"Always does," Draco smirked. He was immensely proud of how well the company was doing under his wing.

"And Lucius and Selena ganged up on you to approve another venture, I wager," his sister-in-law said with a laugh.

"They always do," he conceded. "At least Father knows the company will be in good hands after he and I are both gone." All this was said in good nature, but they knew how true it was.

Astoria's fox-like face immediately showed concern. Her features had always been sharper than Daphne's soft ones...

Draco blinked hard and focused on pouring himself a cup of tea, and helping himself to a light lunch pastry from the tray set in front of them.

She laid a hand gently on his arm as he ate. "How's dear old Lucius doing?"

"As well as a 'dear old man' can." Draco smiled to show Astoria his gratefulness for her concern. "Mother still accompanies him to his regular checkups. The Healers never fail to reassure us."

Astoria pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair, giving him a challenging look.

He sighed. He really hated talking about this. Discussing it made it seem more real, and though father and son never openly showed affection to one another, Draco still knew how much of a blow it would be for everyone, including himself, if things took a turn for the worst.

"Lucius is a fighter. He's going to try to be as healthy as possible because he wants to stick around for Selena...and for Mother. They're giving him all the potions they can, and it's doing him a lot of good, really. You can hardly tell that he's ever had a heart attack."

"But he's working quite hard, isn't he? Spends all his time with the Aurors hopping across the country searching for Dark objects?" Astoria fretted. "The Ministry should stop straining him so much. Merlin knows your father has already given more than enough for the Wizarding community to make up for, well..._everything_." Disapproval rang clearly in her usually mellow voice.

Draco almost snorted at her statement. _Merlin_ might know, but everyone else didn't. Lucius Malfoy would never be able to fully pay for his crimes in the public's eyes, and only his death would possibly satisfy them.

Thankfully, everyone was polite to him, and respectful by extension because of his wife's position in society. Narcissa Malfoy had given every Knut the Malfoys could spare for the benefit of rehabilitation. This might have been in reciprocation for Harry Potter's words that convinced the Wizengamot to grant the Malfoys full pardon. She still gave generously to charities to ensure that the family would always be able to command a certain respect. Draco might now be the head of the family but gracious Madam Malfoy, who now enjoyed the seat her husband had formerly occupied on St. Mungo's board of trustees, was its face, and Draco had no problem with that.

He wanted to keep out of the public eye as much as possible, if only to avoid getting his face plastered to the pages of the newspapers and magazines. Heaven knew how many hangers-on vied to get photographed next to any one of the Malfoys to catch a drop of the good graces the family was currently enjoying.

Besides, he was sick of all the speculation any published pictures of him brought on – speculations regarding his bachelor state and whether or not he was going to do anything about it. He abhorred being called a bachelor. He was a _widower_, for crying out loud, and that really wasn't anything anyone should be taking lightly.

For a moment, Draco wondered if _Astoria_ wanted him to do something about his 'bachelor' state. Of course, if he asked, she'd say something along the lines of, "_Daphne would want..._"

And he really didn't want for there to be any mention of his wife.

"Raymond's a bit down," Astoria shared casually. "He'd hoped his dad would come along today." She stirred her tea and sipped delicately, as if the back story accompanying the information she had just shared wasn't at all serious.

"The usual?" Draco inquired.

"Yes, the usual." She granted him a small smile, amused that he had referred to the situation with her mother-in-law as lightly as a coffee order.

Beatrice Zabini - that once-famously beautiful witch who was all the more infamous for her seven wealthy, consecutively deceased husbands - was now suffering the consequences of her lifestyle, mostly because the alcohol she had freely consumed in earlier years had gone straight to her head and screwed up her liver. She now resided in the ancestral home in Italy, under her aged mother's care.

Frequently, she had lapses of ill health or mental instability or both, and Blaise always took a Portkey to Italy to see to her. Not a lot of people knew about the issue with Beatrice – just the Malfoy adults, Astoria and Blaise. Raymond and Diana knew that their grandmother was alive, but they didn't know exactly how ill she was.

Draco found it ridiculous that Blaise gave so much time and attention to a woman who had left him with relatives and grandparents while she gallivanted about with her husbands, in search of the next one. At least _his_ mother and father had always been present in his life and showered him with time and attention.

"I was hoping you and Selena would be able to cheer him up," said Astoria. "He adores you, and was comforted when I told him that Uncle Draco would be coming to Diagon Alley with us."

"I'm sure we can squeeze in a trip to Fortescue's later," Draco assured her. He also made a mental note to drop by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Raymond loved the Weasley products, and Draco could take advantage of the trip to check out the potential investment and possibly speak to one of the brothers managing the store.

The pair of them sat in silence, enjoying their light lunch, as they watched their children take advantage of the summer sun. In an hour or so, they'd be shopping in preparation for Hogwarts. For a moment, Draco caught his daughter's eye. As they held each other's gazes, Diana whispered something to Selena that made his little girl's green eyes widen, then she giggled. She tilted her face up to the sun, closed her eyes, and even though she was a good distance from him, he could hear her sigh in contentment. That meant all the world to him – at least he was sure that she was happy.

* * *

It was warm in London, but Ginny hugged her arms around herself as she waited along the commercial strip that was Diagon Alley. She laughed internally, realizing that she was literally bracing herself: her firstborn would be going off to Hogwarts in a month's time.

_Would he be able to take care of himself?_ Well, James had always been independent. _Would he enjoy it? _All the kids enjoyed Hogwarts, and stories from his cousins already had him pretty hyped about it. _Would he miss them? _There was no doubt of that, as James loved his siblings terribly and had already assured them that he would write home every day. _Would he be safe?_

Of course he would. Hogwarts was still the safest place in the entire Wizarding world. Even years after the war, the Ministry of Magic insisted on having their Aurors stationed along the edges of the school grounds. Harry was the Head of those Aurors, and he'd surely tighten security around the school now that his son would be in attendance.

So, really, she had nothing to worry about. Young James Potter would have the time of his life in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, learn exciting things about magic, and make new friends – friends he'd missed out on mainly because of his preference to hang out with his Weasley cousins, although children of Harry's friends from work would join them for a spot of Quidditch occasionally.

Ginny suspected that James chose to remain close to his family because of the four years during which his parents had been forced to keep him and his siblings hidden from the Wizarding world. She and Harry had married right after she graduated from Hogwarts, the ceremony hushed-up and known only to her brothers, parents, Ron, Hermione and the Ministry official who'd presided over it, in a flurry of love and anxiety. Quickie weddings like the one they had were common in those days. People were living by the idea that if Death Eaters came knocking on their doors any time soon, there was no time to waste.

James came as a total surprise and the Order moved fast to hide the eighteen-year-old Ginny, confine her and her child to Grimmauld Place and the Burrow, and make sure no one knew that the man they were all counting on to defeat Lord Voldemort had fathered a son. A year after James came Albus. Two years later came Lily. For four years, the Potter children and their mother never ventured outside the protection of their two homes and neither Voldemort nor the Death Eaters ever found them.

Ginny supposed her children's personalities were influenced by those trying times. Lily, the least affected by the war because she had only been an infant, was very much like a perfect little doll. For an eight-year-old, she was petite and had porcelain skin framed by dark red hair, unlike the bright orange shade her mother had been saddled with. Harry's dark hair color probably had something to do with that. Her eyes were obviously Ginny's – big and brown and had the power to make Harry give in to anything she wanted. Ginny always warned Harry to be careful not to spoil Lily too much, but their youngest was such a delight that Ginny could barely practice what she preached to her husband. Harry was a slave to his daughter, and little Lily was well aware of the fact. Spoiled but still sweet, she was the typical annoying little sister to Albus, but was endearingly close to James. She definitely adored her eldest brother, reminding Ginny of how she had been as a child towards Bill and Charlie.

Albus, however, had been three years old when the war ended. He had felt the strain his parents were experiencing during the last year of Voldemort's reign of terror. There were long stretches of time that they wouldn't see Harry at all, and that's when Albus took it upon himself to cheer his mother up. Albus Severus was a beautiful child. He looked the most like Harry with his jet black hair and green eyes, though his features were softer than his father's. He was good-natured, playful, eager to please and always smiling, unlike the man from whom his middle name was taken.

Pleasant as they both were, Albus and Lily would sometimes get into the most awful tantrum-induced spats. That was where James came in. James wasn't like Lily or Albus - well-behaved, reserved and terribly concerned for others. He had always been quite mature and never gave Ginny nor Harry a headache, acting like a shock absorber and mediator between his younger siblings.

Due to his mature nature, James enjoyed the company of Aunt Hermione immensely. His godmother had volunteered to be his tutor in his pre-Hogwarts years. She taught him languages, history, basic mathematics and even a bit of the Muggle sciences. Best of all, she treated him as she would any adult, which he appreciated greatly.

James had absolutely refused to go on his first school shopping trip without Aunt Hermione's expertise - never mind that she was a busy woman and his mother had already taken the day off from St. Mungo's to accompany him. Aunt Hermione didn't know how to refuse her darling godson anyway. It didn't insult his mother at all, but Ginny had the most difficult time searching for a sitter for the younger two – Harry was at Hogwarts, preparing it for the impending arrival of students; Molly and Arthur were out of town visiting Charlie in Romania; Bill was at work, and his wife Fleur already had her hands full with their own daughter; Percy couldn't be disturbed; and both George and Ron were tied up at the shop. Children had yearly mad dashes to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the weeks before September first to stock up for the term.

Luckily, Luna Lovegood passed her by on the street and offered to watch the kids. Ginny accepted for Luna's house was just a block away from their own in Godric's Hollow, but she had to remind Albus and Lily to be _nice_ to Aunt Luna and not to mind her eccentricity.

It was kind of difficult to explain what eccentricity meant to Lily, though…

Albus had finally said, exasperatedly, "It means _weird, _Lily."

"Oh, Albus," Ginny reprimanded, "where on Earth did you pick that up from?"

"Uncle Ron," Albus shrugged, to which his mother rolled her eyes.

Ginny hoped her children were behaving themselves, and that Luna wasn't telling them about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

She wondered whether Hermione and James would be finished buying books soon, for she needed to pass by the leather goods store and check if Harry had picked up James' trunk like he promised he would. She doubted he really had any time to do so. Seeing from the crowd crammed inside the bookstore, Ginny sighed and assumed that her son and best friend would be taking their time.

She didn't much like standing alone along the strip with people staring and pointing and whispering about. Not that she wasn't used to it. Being Harry Potter's wife _and_ the mother of his children _and_ a war hero gave her a lot of attention that she neither wanted nor needed. Still, she patiently endured the staring and pointing and whispering, and even smiled nicely at the children who'd recognize her from the papers. Speaking of the papers...she was actually surprised that photographers hadn't jumped at her yet, but they were probably waiting for an opportunity to snap her and James and Hermione together. _Harry Potter's son shopping for first year in Hogwarts_, the headline would be.

"Good afternoon, madam."

Ginny saw a boy standing before her, from whom the cordial greeting was issued. His properly combed hair was black with wisps of darkest brown, olive skin, and eyes just as dark as his hair. He was familiar, but Ginny couldn't place him, although she was somewhat amused by the air of confidence and poise he possessed even though he was quite young.

She flashed him a kind smile. "Yes?"

"Pardon me, but I was wondering if you were Mrs. Potter."

She was impressed by his politeness. "That's right. Hi, I'm Ginny. What's your name?" Ginny held her hand out to match the boy's courteousness.

She didn't need to hear his reply, though. As soon as she saw the woman hastening towards them, she knew exactly who the boy was.

"Oh, Raymond! There you are, son," the boy's mother breathed in relief. She was beside herself in concern for her son who had momentarily wandered off, but she still held a certain dignity about her. "We thought you'd gone to the Weasley store without us!"

The tall woman with the flawlessly sculpted face standing before her, fretting over her son, was Astoria Greengrass, wife of Blaise Zabini – _the_ Blaise Zabini she'd gone to school with who had the same colouring and features as the boy, hence making him seem familiar to Ginny. The former Miss Greengrass was a prominent figure in Wizarding society just as Ginny was, but they didn't see each other very often. Ginny felt quite plain in her jeans and blouse as she took in Astoria Zabini in her long silk skirt.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter, I hope he didn't bother you," Astoria said affably.

"No, not at all," Ginny responded. "He's very polite. Raymond, is it? Will you be off to Hogwarts, then?" she asked the boy.

"He'll be a second year, come September," his mother answered for him, pride resounding in her smooth voice. "It's his sister who'll be in first year."

"Oh, what a coincidence – it's my eldest's first time, too," Ginny said conversationally. Astoria's forehead creased minutely, so Ginny inclined her head towards the bookstore and added, "He's inside, with Hermione, getting his books. Is your husband with you?"

Astoria gave her a son a weak smile and ruffled his hair. "Unfortunately not," she said to Ginny. "His sister and cousin are in Eeylops, though, getting new owls."

Ginny was running out of things to say to a woman she barely saw or knew, so she was grateful when she heard her companions speaking as they stepped out of the shop.

"Good job today, James. We managed to get everything," came Hermione's voice. "We'll see if we can get your mum to let me buy you an ice cream cone, alright?"

But Ginny didn't hear that last bit because Astoria had announced, "Oh, here come the girls."

Ginny felt James take her hand as he and Hermione reached her, but her eyes were fixed on the two little girls walking towards them, both walking alongside Draco Malfoy and each holding one of his hands. The girls had identical green eyes, but she assumed that the one with olive skin was Raymond Zabini's sister. Malfoy was looking down at the other girl, listening to her as she talked. He gave her a small smile and as he did so, his eyes met the sight of his sister-in-law standing with his nephew, a boy who he thought for a moment was Potter, Potter's wife and alas...Hermione Granger.

No sooner had Draco and the girls joined the little group gathered outside Flourish & Blotts did a swarm of photographers swoop down on them. As the flashbulbs started going off at a blinding rate, Draco instinctively wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders and tightened his grip on his niece's hand.

A warm hand covered his ear, accompanied with a sure order, "Apparate to Fortescue's_ now_."

Draco flexed his fingers to make sure he still had the girls with him, visualized the ice cream parlor and Apparated all three of them to Fortescue's.

They appeared right in front of its doors, and Draco hurriedly ushered Selena and Diana in.

Hermione Granger was standing by the entrance, waiting for them. She smiled in relief as she saw them entering. He immediately spotted Potter's wife's bright copper hair and spotted Astoria and Raymond sitting with her in a booth.

Selena and Diana freed themselves from his grip and ran ahead to the counter to order. He was left standing by the doors with Granger, who he assumed was the quick thinker who had saved them from being harassed by the photographers.

"Sorry about that," she apologized still. "They've been following me and Ginny and James around the entire day. I guess they went berserk at a chance to catch all of us together."

He observed her intently, taking in her posture that implied that she wasn't exactly comfortable. Her hands were behind her back, and he inferred that they were fidgeting, as if being there with him at that moment made her unsure. It amazed him that this woman who was standing so awkwardly in front of him in plain Muggle clothing was a high ranking official of the Ministry, and a member of Minister Shacklebolt's inner counsel. During the two times he encountered her over the summer, her simplicity and light manner had led him to forget that she was actually the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He could hardly imagine this petite woman working with _his_ father, _the_ Lucius Malfoy, over matters of the law.

But of course he knew Hermione Granger was anything but delicate, as her appearance would trick strangers into believing, if her punching him in the face while she was a mere thirteen-year-old girl was any indication that she was not one to be messed with.

"Did they harm you, or something?" she suddenly said. Her brows were now furrowed. "You seem a bit dazed."

"No," he said immediately. "Sorry. Good thing you're always on your toes, isn't it, Granger?" He allowed a small smile before he gestured towards the table Astoria and Little Red were at.

She reciprocated with a bigger smile and joined the other two women. He followed her.

"Here, boys," Granger took her godson's hand and dropped a few Galleons into it. "Run along with the girls and have some ice cream on me. Pay for your sister's and cousin's too, won't you, Raymond?"

James and Raymond grinned at each other and scampered off, leaving a quick "Thanks, Aunt Hermione!" and "Thanks, ma'am!" as they passed her.

Astoria smiled appreciatively at Granger as she slid on the seat next to Ginny that James had just vacated.

"You didn't need to do that," Draco said as he sat beside Astoria.

"It's no problem," Hermione insisted. "I promised him I'd treat him to ice cream, and now he has new friends to share it with." She craned her neck to look fondly over at the children who had already claimed a separate table for themselves. "The girls are lovely."

"Thank you," Astoria and Draco said in unison.

"The kids are quite sweet, aren't they?" Granger hummed. "They get along with each other so easily."

"Yes, look how engrossed the boys are in their conversation now," Astoria agreed with a laugh. "I bet they're talking about Quidditch."

"And the girls are just listening in," Hermione observed. "No matter – they'll join in eventually. So," she stopped watching the children and turned to her companions around the table. Her elbows were resting on it, with her fingers laced and chin propped on top, "I saw your father at the Ministry, Draco, just last week. He's looking well."

"Oh, that's right, I remember Harry telling me that he's a _huge_ help in the artefact raids. Who would've thought Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter could stand hanging around each other for days at a time?" Ginny said in mock surprise. The other two women laughed.

"He's keeping busy, old Lucius," Astoria shared. "Not much excitement for him on the board of Malfoy Capital, is it, Draco?" she nudged him good-humouredly.

Hermione watched as he raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips and shook his head once. A little smirk broke out. "I rather hope not since the point of dumping all the work on me was to keep him from too much excitement. You all know how stubborn my father is, of course."

Astoria's laughter rang out. "Too true, too true. That dear man..."

Ginny, with her head bowed, had raised an eyebrow discreetly. Hermione gave a polite smile, considering that Ginny hadn't the chance to work with Lucius Malfoy like she did and so the redhead's last memory of the former Death Eater had been from when he tried to do them harm in the Department of Mysteries. Ginny had only been fourteen then.

"By the way, Draco...were the girls able to get good owls?"

Draco nodded in affirmative. "Fine bird, the one Diana picked out. I arranged to have it delivered to your home." Astoria inclined her head to him in thanks. To Hermione's surprise, Draco let out a chuckle that only lasted a short moment. "Selena seems to be as stubborn as her grandfather. She insists on keeping the eagle owl Father gave her years ago. I don't know how that old thing will manage to fly to Hogwarts and back, but she's rather fond of it."

"Oh, dear," Ginny suddenly gasped. The three others whipped their heads to her. She laid a hand on Hermione's, which were both folded on the table. "I am so sorry, but the thing with the photographers totally distracted me and I forgot to drop by Wolff & Sons for James' trunk."

Ginny and Hermione turned to Astoria as they heard her sigh heavily. "So have I," Mrs. Zabini said. "Diana simply refuses to use the luggage my mother passed down to me. It has the Greengrass coat of arms, you see. I ordered a new trunk for her and I'm to pick it up today."

Hermione quickly clutched her purse and the light cardigan she'd been carrying around. "Shall we head to Wolff's, then?"

Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Zabini turned their eyes to their children then exchanged sheepish looks with one another.

"Oh, but they're enjoying themselves," Astoria hummed. "Draco, darling, would you mind watching the children while I hurry over to Wolff's?"

"Great idea," Ginny acceded. "I don't think James wants to leave yet. Can you stay with him, 'mione?"

The two mothers rose to their feet and Malfoy, being the gentleman that he was, followed suit.

"Oh, well, then," Hermione sank in her seat. "That's alright, I guess."

Draco eyed Hermione peripherally. His heart dropped after she confirmed that she would stay.

"Are you sure you don't need me to escort you?" he offered to Astoria. After all, it was his purpose for being present during their shopping trip.

Astoria merely laughed his offer off, "No, thank you, darling. I'll go with dear Ginny." She took one of Ginny's hands, hooked their arms, and both women were on their way out of the ice cream parlor, chatting as if they were old friends.

Draco stayed on his feet until he heard the bell by the door ring, signalling that it had closed and the two women were now out of the premises. He stole another glance at his daughter, niece, nephew and their new friend. He wondered if he could join them at their table...

With an internal sigh, he took his seat again with as much dignity as he could muster and looked _her_ in the eye. Unfazed by his hard stare, she simply smiled, apparently amused by Astoria and Ginny's abandoning of them.

* * *

Her chocolate sundae was long gone but Raymond and the Potter boy seemed to be enjoying each other's company so much that Selena thought it would be long before they'd be able to leave. She adjusted herself in her seat, getting more comfortable. Diana's sharp eyes shifted to her as she moved; they looked at each other and rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Your mothers just walked out of the shop together, you know," Selena informed the boys as she took a nonchalant sip of water. Just as she'd intended, they paused their discussion about Quidditch and whipped their heads around in search of their mothers. She gave Diana a smirk. There was only so much talk of Quidditch that they could stand.

Across her, the Potter boy looked over his left shoulder and Selena followed his gaze: that bushy-haired godmother of his was sitting with her father. Selena's breath hitched slightly. The woman caught her godson's eye and waved to him to show that she was still there. Just the same, Selena and her father locked eyes and he furrowed his eyebrows, silently asking if she needed anything. She responded with a minute shake of her head.

The boys resumed their conversation, but she tuned them out for a while as she studied the woman who had now started talking to her dad. Miss Granger, who she recalled meeting after the match between Puddlemere and the Cannons, had also been speaking with her father that time. Selena supposed she was the same Miss Granger her grandfather had mentioned fleetingly during dinner a fortnight ago while he told them of the day he spent in the Ministry. Selena recognized her from the newspapers; this woman was Harry Potter's best friend, without whose intelligence he could never have beaten Lord Voldemort.

Subconsciously, her little hand clenched into a fist as the name of the wizard who killed her mother entered her mind…

From what she knew, this Miss Granger was respected in the Ministry and was close to the Minister himself. Miss Granger looked nothing like the middle-aged spinsters who dedicated their lives in service to the Ministry, let alone a scholar. She had a smart air about her, but it was a wonder to Selena that she held so much power in the Ministry when she was so small in stature and understated in appearance.

Daddy seemed to know Miss Granger well, and so Selena assumed that they went to school together. Selena could quickly tell that Miss Granger hadn't been in Slytherin House, and since all of Daddy's friends were Slytherins, she wondered why Miss Granger felt so at ease in her dad's presence. People were usually intimidated by Draco Malfoy, for reasons Selena was aware of but never wanted to think about.

She observed her dad. A while ago, he'd only been responding in small gestures to Miss Granger's chatter, nodding or shaking his head and smirking a few times. Now she could see his lips moving, actually conversing with her.

A tiny movement in front of her distracted her from Daddy and Miss Granger. She uttered an almost inaudible sound of annoyance; the Potter boy had been glancing at her every now and then.

Selena compared the two boys before her. Both had jet black hair, brown eyes…but Raymond was slightly darker-skinned. It couldn't also be neglected that her cousin's hair was much neater. Raymond was a few inches taller than his new friend, for her cousin was already twelve-years-old, and she assumed the other boy was just the same age as her and Diana. Raymond had on a thin sweater and perfectly pressed khaki pants; the other boy was in Muggle jeans and a t-shirt. She noted, though, that the latter's clothes were of good quality.

He hadn't even bothered to include her and Diana in their oh-so-fascinating discussion about Quidditch. And the worst part was that Raymond had totally forgotten his manners and ignored them as well, not to mention that no introductions were made at all!

"I have lots of cousins and we always play together after lunch in the meadow around my grandparents' place on Sundays," the Potter boy was saying. "Who do you play with?"

"My dad, Uncle Draco, Uncle Theo and Uncle Theo's sons, usually," Raymond replied. He was still shovelling spoonfuls of ice cream into his mouth. Selena's nose wrinkled a bit at her cousin's sudden lack of grace.

It seemed the Potter boy finally found the guts to look her straight in the eye, but he shifted his gaze to Diana as he spoke. "You girls don't play?"

"We'd rather not," Diana said evenly.

Raymond laughed. "I think Mother would actually kill Diana if she ever so much as got on a broom. But S here," Raymond said, pointing his spoon at her (which made Selena's nose wrinkle all the more), "is a fantastic flyer. Really," he added hastily as Selena shot him a reproachful look, "Uncle Draco's excellent with brooms and he taught her well."

Selena softened her glare at him. "Thanks."

"You should play," the other boy said hurriedly. He caught himself and cleared his throat before continuing. "Quidditch, I mean. Shouldn't put that talent on the broom to waste."

"Yes, well," Selena hummed. "I'd rather play sports on solid ground, because at least there won't be any risk of plummeting hundreds of feet to my death – or at least to paralysis." She said this as aloofly as she could. She wanted to make it clear that she had no intention of being dragged into their tedious conversation.

"No Quidditch injury a Healer can't fix," Raymond muttered, going ignored.

"My brother Al and I play football sometimes," Potter amended. "Our backyard's not big enough for Quidditch, but just big enough for kicking the ball around."

Selena was caught off guard, mostly because he had mentioned football. She ignored the comment about his backyard not being big enough for _Quidditch _because hers certainly was_, _though it almost made her raise her eyebrows. She sat up a little straighter in her seat as she asked, "_You_ play football?"

It was the boy's turn to be surprised. "You know what football is?"

"Of course," Selena replied indignantly.

"We were raised practically Muggle," he said with a laugh. "Mum and Dad would do a spot of magic every now and then, but they don't do it often so we'd learn how to do chores manually."

Selena saw Diana raise a quizzical brow. _Chores?_

"And Dad lived with Muggles until he was seventeen, so he knows a lot about them," Harry Potter's son continued. "He taught us how to play football. It's really popular with the British Muggles. Who, erm...taught you?"

Selena's eyes widened as she took in the information about Harry Potter, and realized that the boy was talking to her. "Oh. No one, really. A few Muggle kids play near my place, and the elves would let me sneak out and join them."

"You have elves?"

The three cousins gaped at James Potter.

"Lots, yes," Raymond replied for all of them. "You don't have any?"

The Potter boy shrugged. "We do – I mean, we did. Dad got rid of him long ago, though. He works at Hogwarts now, I think."

Selena considered the boy sitting across her. She knew that the famous Harry Potter was a Half-blood and, from an old register of Wizarding families she'd found in her father's study, she knew his father had been a Pureblood. The Potters had always been a well-off family. She also knew that Harry Potter was Head of the Auror Department and surely made a lot of money. This boy was making her very curious, but the questions forming in her mind were definitely inappropriate and would come out as quite rude.

To Diana's shock, Selena very forwardly asked him, "What's it like, growing up Muggle and having to do chores?"

James Potter frowned faintly, but then he said, "I really can't say it's any different because I don't know what it's like for you fellows. I mean, we're quite comfortable, and Mum always tells us to be grateful because we're luckier than most kids...it's just that Mum and Dad try to teach us not to be so dependent on magic."

Selena crossed her arms. Daddy always used magic. So did Grandmama and Grandfather, Aunt Astoria and Uncle Blaise. The elves used their own magic all the time. Waving their wands was second nature to all the adults she was familiar with.

"What would be the point of being wizards and witches, then?" Diana queried.

James Potter tilted his head to one side. "I guess all that learning to do things for ourselves is for right now, while we still don't know how to do magic, or for while we're still under seventeen and won't be allowed to do magic outside of school."

"And your parents just cook and clean by themselves, without elves and without using their wands?" Diana pressed on, her green eyes wide.

"Of course not," James Potter laughed. "Lily and Al and I help them. That's what chores are for."

He watched the reactions on the three kids with him, all who were around the same age he was, but had obviously been raised so very differently.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Really, fellows, it isn't bad at all."

* * *

"Let me take care of that – I insist."

Draco's hand immediately flew to his pocket to retrieve enough Galleons to pay for the two bowls of plain vanilla ice cream that had just appeared on their table, but Granger had already handed a Galleon to one of Mr. Fortescue's sons, who had whipped up their orders. He relented and paid for his own treat, all the while giving her a disapproving glower.

"Draco, please," she said as she gave a distracted smile to the boy, who then left them. "A gentleman always pays on the first date, and as this is not a date, you don't have to."

Draco shrugged. _That made sense._

They had stared at each other for a couple of minutes after Astoria and Ginny left. Then, she started fidgeting with her hands once more and he settled for keeping an eye on the children. He read Selena's lips as she told her companions that their mothers had left the ice cream parlor. Granger had given the Potter boy a small wave, then spoke to Draco for the first time since they were left together.

"I feel like having some ice cream. Shall we order, Draco?" He had simply nodded.

Now, as she took her first bite, she smacked her lips in satisfaction, even going so far as to close her eyes, and said in a half-moan, "This is glorious."

To which Draco couldn't help but smirk, "Yes, and there's nothing better in the world than vanilla ice cream, is there, Granger?"

"There isn't!" she swore. "It's wonderful, just because of its simplicity. It's never going to change for anything, and you can always rely on it to be good."

Draco placed a huge spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, hoping to cause a brain freeze to numb the thoughts her words had triggered – thoughts of how metaphorical Granger's description of vanilla ice cream was for her.

She was just as simple as vanilla ice cream, really...just as plain. Her choice of casual clothing aided more to distract others from how renowned she really was – a flouncy cotton skirt, unembellished top and sensible flats. Her hair, longer than it had been in school, was let down and had neither headband nor clips. He could tell that she wasn't wearing any makeup, because her complexion was different from his mother's or Astoria's close up.

"And I thought I told you last time we saw each other to call me Hermione?" Granger said in a reproachful tone, but she was smiling all the while.

Draco's hand stopped midair as he raised his spoon to take another bite. Had he been drunk then?

"Last time...that was a month ago, wasn't it?" he took a shot at guessing when their last meeting had occurred.

"Yes, during the Quidditch World Cup – a success, by the way, thanks to its gracious sponsor!" she inclined her head to him. "The Minister's grateful for all you did, Draco. Seamus Finnigan – Head of Games and Recreation, of course you remember – has been going on and on about you and your company."

"Ah, never thought he'd be singing praises for a Slytherin, I bet," Draco kidded. For a split second, he was afraid that she wouldn't catch his humour and be offended. Thankfully, she laughed.

"So what has the great Draco Malfoy been up to since the World Cup?"

"Great," he almost snorted. "I think that suits you better, Miss Department-of-Law-Enforcement."

"It's nothing, really," Grange – err, Hermione flicked her wrist dismissively. "I don't think of it as work anymore, since I enjoy it so much," she admitted softly without meeting his eyes. Her spoon was currently mashing the remains of ice cream in her bowl.

Draco leaned back against his chair. He wondered if he could say the same about _his_ job. He never really thought about it before. It had always been about adding more to the immense family fortune, building his own personal wealth and providing more for Selena than she asked for. He worked hard so as to not end up disappointing his father, the friends and relatives on the board, and even those ancestors who joined in on the Slytherin Parlor meetings.

"But you still have that charity of yours," he reminded her.

"Well, yes, but I could say the same for it as I did my job in the Ministry."

"Spectacular work, by the way," he threw in. He didn't really know much about the foundation she headed – was it S.T.E.W. or S.W.E.T or whatever? – but Blaise and Astoria donated to it and Granger had a lot of sources of financial support, thanks to her connections and influence.

Unexpectedly, her cheeks coloured at his pseudo-compliment.

"Thank you," she said. "The Zabinis are generous, almost to the point of excess. Not a Galleon is ever wasted, I assure you. I must thank Astoria when she returns."

"They might take long," Draco warned. "Seems like they hit it off pretty well." He couldn't really fathom that modest but sharp Ginny Weasley and society princess Astoria Greengrass would have a lot to say to one another.

"Yes..." Granger trailed off. "Where are you heading after this? Well...as soon as we're sure that the photographers didn't follow us here."

Draco swore inwardly. He hoped they wouldn't have to barricade themselves in Fortescue's any longer.

"We're done with school shopping, I think," Draco replied. "Last stop might be Weasleys', at Raymond's insistence."

"That's great!" she said a bit too enthusiastically, and she bit her bottom lip. "The kids might want to go together, you know..."

"Sure," he responded, not knowing what else to say. She'd already treated Selena to ice cream. He figured he could do something in return for her godson once they got to the joke shop.

* * *

James was secretly glad that the conversation had been replaced by a momentous silence as Raymond, his sister and his cousin sat agape at him. His eyes shifted back and forth to each of his companions, giving him an excuse to fleetingly look at the girl sitting across him.

He'd recognized her father. Draco Malfoy had funded the World Cup, with his pictures all over the newspapers. He didn't know much about the Malfoys, but from what little he picked up from Uncle George and Uncle Ron, that family hadn't always been on Dad's side of the war. A week ago, he'd seen a picture of three very blonde, very tall, very good-looking but very pointed-faced people in the _Prophet_, with a caption underneath saying 'Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy at the annual St. Mungo's Hospital Benefit.' _This_ Malfoy, however, didn't look anything like her relatives in the paper.

Merlin, she was pretty. It was kind of strange how she reminded him of Albus and their dad – what, with her black hair and green eyes. He'd never seen anyone that..._pale_, and taking into consideration that most of his relatives were redheads, that was saying a lot. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, because she did look rather healthy and it wasn't the sickly type of pale at all. Of course, his relatives played Quidditch and were tanned because of all the time they spent under the sun. He wondered how long she'd been playing football, though, because surely she would have gained _some_ colour even after just a week of it. Speaking of that...it intrigued him how this girl knew about something terribly Muggle as football, or, given her family's social standing and history, was even allowed to _interact_ with Muggle children.

He thought his mother and sister were pretty. Of course, Mum and Lily looked very much alike, and he contemplated whether he thought of them that way just because he was related to them. Mum and Lily always smiled.

The Malfoy girl hadn't even smiled the entire time he'd been in their company. Did she ever smile, or was she really this icy?

Then he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself to her yet, which was why he didn't even know her name!

Raymond had called her 'S'... He took a moment to take a stab at it: she looked like a Sophie. Sophia. It could have been 'Es' instead of 'S' – perhaps, Esther or Esme? Was it Scarlet, because of her red lips? Or maybe it was something exotic like _Esmeralda_, because her eyes were green? Estelle? Stella?

According to his lessons with Aunt Hermione, Draco was a constellation - a cluster of stars. And Stella meant _star. _

Aha, _Stella_! She looked like a Stella. Well, he figured he'd call her Stella in his mind until he figured out what her name really was.

When he'd first seen her after their close escape from the photographers, James had stood in place for a second to stare at her. He'd been expecting Raymond who had introduced himself before the girls arrived by Apparition with Mr. Malfoy, to do likewise for his cousin and sister. Soon, he and Raymond had gotten themselves swept away by Quidditch, and he had to settle for stealing glances at her. He'd noticed, though, that she saw whenever he did so, and would turn her little nose up at him. It was kind of cute, if it just didn't intimidate him.

James decided that he'd give her his name – and get hers in return – as soon as he saw an opening.

The opening came when his mum and Raymond's strolled back into Fortescue's. Wow, they were chatting quite animatedly. It would be cool if their mums became friends, so he could hang out more with Raymond.

And, hopefully, by extension...his cousin.

Aunt Hermione hopped to their table and said, "All done, kids? We're heading to the Weasley store, if you want to come along," in a sing-song voice.

The four of them quickly rose to their feet and grabbed their belongings. As they did so, Raymond and his sister – Liana, was it? – started squabbling over a stray quill that had probably fallen out of one of the shopping bags. Their mother led them away and settled the issue for them, leaving James at the table to wait for little Miss Malfoy to get a hold on her purchases.

"Yes?" he heard her say. He'd been staring at his hands, wringing them together.

James looked up. One of her brows was raised expectantly at him.

"Oh, sorry," he said, realizing that he was openly staring at her. Not being able to think of anything to say to her, he held out his hand, "Would you like me to help you with those?"

It seemed like she was considering his offer, but her esmeralda eyes had narrowed and it scared him – or at least made him nervous.

"Thank you, but I think my dad will just send these off to the manor."

_The manor_...he couldn't even imagine how big her house was if she could call it that, but he'd already reckoned that the Malfoys were ridiculously rich.

"Well, alright, then," he muttered. He looked over his shoulder; her father was still there, talking to Aunt Hermione. So he took his chance and held out his hand as she slipped out of the booth. "I'm James, by the way."

She looked down at his hand. She might have been thinking if his hand was clean enough to touch. The silliness of it made him almost laugh out loud.

"Sorry, I didn't get to introduce myself," he added, hoping to make up for his previous lack of etiquette.

"That's fine," she conceded. She took his hand, squeezed it gently instead of shaking then extracted her own quickly. "I'm Selena Malfoy."

"Selena..." he tried her name out. _Still looks like a Stella to me_. Everything Aunt Hermione had taught him about Greek mythology rushed into his head, and he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Did you know that Selena was the goddess of the moon? Err...in Greek mythology, I mean. Sorry...it's a Muggle thing."

Selena remained unsmiling. Her eyes had brightened though, and James took it as a good sign.

"Yes, I'm aware of that. I have a pretty long name; perhaps we can dissect it as well if that's to your liking," she said in a bored kind of way; James winced because of the edge in her tone. "James _Potter_, right?"

James offered a smile in affirmative, hoping to get her to reciprocate.

She made a thoughtful sound before walking past him towards Mr. Malfoy and Aunt Hermione. James ran a rough hand through his hair, scolding himself for thinking that little pureblood princess would actually befriend him -

"Come along, then."

James halted his thoughts. The princess was standing in front of him, now with only a small purse. He suspected she'd handed her bags off to her father.

"You may escort me to the Weasley store," Selena Malfoy announced, her voice quite indifferent still, "And we can talk more about football."

Merlin, this girl reminded him loads of Aunt Fleur. The way she spoke and held herself screamed 'blonde French Veela.' As it hit him that she'd said _escort_, he wondered if she expected him to offer her his arm. Uncle Bill did it to Aunt Fleur all the time.

James settled for filling his hands with all his purchases to get out of having to pull an Uncle Bill. He figured she'd prefer it if they didn't make contact, anyway.

* * *

Quite like James and Selena, their godmother and father, respectively, walked with a slight distance between them. The former pair, however, had their heads leaning in towards one another as they spoke.

Hermione directed her gaze downwards whenever Ginny looked over her shoulder at them to avoid the redhead's twinkling eyes.

Must her conversations with Malfoy always contain awkward lulls? Disconcerting, because Hermione Granger was pretty good with people. It wasn't even an excuse that she didn't know him well. Normally, she'd talk easily to strangers.

Everyone they passed was shamelessly staring at them – that brilliant but elusive bachelor billionaire and the brains of the Ministry of Magic, what could they be doing together? She wondered if they'd stare even more if she and Draco were actually talking.

Malfoy cleared his throat, making Hermione's head snap to him. He was still gazing straight ahead, that unreadable face on, showing no sign of any intention to converse with her. She breathed a sigh and watched the children interact instead.

At last, they reached the building that housed three floors of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. In all that time, not a word was exchanged between Draco and Hermione.

Astoria and Ginny had already disappeared into the store with the Zabini children. Hermione almost smirked with pride as she and Malfoy witnessed James holding the door open for Selena.

"Seems like a good kid," Selena's father commented as he himself did the same for Granger.

"Oh, he is, really," Hermione seconded. "He's my godson."

"Job well done, then, Granger. Guess that's another thing you can add to your long list of credits, right after the Ministry and the charity?"

"I suppose," she smiled.

He cleared his throat again. _What a nervous habit_, she thought. But then she almost laughed – a nervous Draco Malfoy? Really, now? The bloke was overflowing with self-assurance and didn't have a speck of timidity in his entire being. He always had, if his days as the prince of Slytherin were any evidence of that.

"The company that makes the Firebolt recently came out with a new model," he told her nonchalantly. "I'd get it for him...only, I'm not sure if his father hasn't already."

Hermione did a double-take. "What?"

"I mean, he seems really keen on Quidditch, from the way he spoke with Raymond about it. And if he's anything like his old man, then...I assume he plays Seeker?"

"He can play any position, actually, but he prefers Seeking," Hermione said quite smugly. Then she turned wide eyes on him. "Why are you thinking of getting him a _broom_?"

Hermione Granger wasn't one to follow Quidditch or be aware of developments in the broom manufacturing industry, but she had enough sense to know that any new product was, of course, incredibly expensive. And since Harry's beloved old Firebolt _still_ left most brooms eating his dust, the company that made it in such good quality probably charged just as excessively.

"I couldn't think of anything else to get for him," Draco shrugged, as if that particular gift for James Potter wouldn't cost him hundreds of Galleons. "You know, in return for treating the kids to ice cream."

Hermione's mouth fell open. He was going to buy her godson a brand new top-of-the-line racing broom because _she_ had bought chocolate sundaes for his daughter and niece and nephew! A memory struck her of him during their second year, strutting around the school with his new Slytherin Quidditch teammates, parading their Nimbus 2001 brooms from Lucius Malfoy. Were the Malfoys spoiling Selena rotten like they had their own son?

She hoped not. The girl was too sweetly pretty to be a brat like the younger Draco.

"I might as well - since you don't have any children of your own - take it out on your godson instead."

The mother of the boy in question sidled up to them. "What about James?"

Hermione quickly grabbed her friend by the arms. "Oh, Ginny, Draco's being ridiculous and insisting on getting James a new Firebolt."

Ginny's brown eyes widened in shock.

"Just because I bought his kids ice cream," Hermione explained further in a scandalized tone.

"Really, Granger, it's the least I could do," Malfoy drawled behind her. Seriously, she should just let him buy the damned broom for the boy. It's not like it would make his pockets any less heavy.

_The _least_ he could do_? "No, it's not!" Granger snapped, suddenly emitting a gasp as Ginny pinched her arm. To Draco's satisfaction, Ginny Potter peered around Hermione at him.

"That's very nice of you, Malfoy," Mrs. Potter said, "but Harry's already promised James a new broom before his second year."

"Fine – anything he wants from the store is on me."

"Sorry," Little Red frowned. "He gets products for free from George and Ron."

Draco nodded once to Ginny. "That's a shame, but alright then. I'll think of something else," he said slyly, more to Hermione than to Ginny.

Ginny gave Hermione a pointed look and peeled the latter's hands off her arms, then walked away.

Hermione slowly turned around to face Draco.

"Did you even consider what Harry would say if Draco Malfoy bought his son a broom, let alone any kind of present?"

To which Draco flashed a smirk befitting a true Slytherin prince. "Have kids of your own, then, Granger, so I wouldn't have to settle for the next best thing and offer anything to your godson who, incidentally, is the son of a man who's despised me since I was eleven."

He was greatly amused when she attempted to smack his arm with all her might. It didn't even tickle him.

He wanted to solicit a reaction like this from her again, and so he summoned his past as an insufferable prick and said, "Would I be correct to assume that you don't have children because you prefer house elves, seeing how you focus all your time on that charity of yours?"

Granger was absolutely furious. "Oh, you!" she whispered angrily, wary of the hounds of people in the store with them. "We get along just fine but you have to go ahead and resurrect the infuriating little ferret I went to school with! You know – the one who greased his hair _way_ too much and had Crabbe and Goyle shadowing him all the time to hide the fact that he's truly much shorter than those he bullies!"

He was unbelievable! He crossed his arms over his chest, as if daring her to give insulting him her best shot. Hermione responded with another smack on his arm.

She had to admit: Malfoy was really intimidating standing like that, with him towering almost two heads over her. He wasn't at all like his short, eleven-year-old self.

"I like children very much – I should, since I hang out with Harry's kids almost every day!" Hermione continued her tirade. "It's just not the time for me to have my own, nor have I found anyone I'd want to have kids with."

"How do you suppose you'd find anyone, Granger? You're so into your job at the Ministry - _I don't think of it as work anymore, since I enjoy it so much_," Malfoy quoted her.

"At least I'm doing something for the community, Malfoy!"

"What, and I'm not? _The Minister's grateful for all you did, Draco_!"

She let out a strangled little cry. "Sod off, you git! You're just as insufferable as ever!"

"Whoa, 'mione, calm down – we can't have you talking to a potential investor like that."

Hermione's turned around to glare in disbelief at a man who was _supposedly _her best friend and who _supposedly _hated Draco Malfoy's guts.

"Ah, Weasley," the insufferable git drawled.

"Glad to see you, Malfoy," Ron Weasley said. Yes, Hermione couldn't believe her ears: _Ron Weasley said he was glad to see Draco Malfoy_.

Hermione's jaw dropped, and even more so when Ron reached around her and shook Malfoy's hand.

"My godson loves the place," the insufferable git explained, "so I tagged along to see how business is doing. What a crowd you're drawing in, Weasley. I'm impressed."

Draco watched Hermione grow more scandalized from the corner of his eye. He was milking this overdose of civility from Weasley as much as he could, to aggravate her even further.

"George's at the counter, handling the register," Ron cocked his head to the left to gesture to his brother. "He'd be glad to talk to you."

Malfoy held up a hand. "No, no. I'd rather not talk shop now and take your time while you're all so busy. I must say, though, that my daughter's advocating for the investment to push through."

"She's over there with James," Hermione provided, wanting for Ron to leave so she wouldn't have to endure this sickening display of sweetness between him and Malfoy.

"Right, then, I'll go entertain them," Ron decided, wrestling his way through the crowd to reach his nephew, who was standing with a girl he recognized from his World Cup match against Puddlemere.

"Ever consider acting, Malfoy?" she said icily. "You're a natural."

"Oh, please. I'm good at everything," Draco rolled his eyes. "You're just scared that the Weasleys might get to like me so much that they'd offer me _your_ place at the table at Sunday brunches."

"What a coincidence. I came over to do just that," Ginny Weasley piped up, suddenly appearing beside them. Hermione gave Ginny a horrified look.

"Gosh, 'mione, I was kidding," Ginny laughed. "But, yes, I just came over from speaking to George, and he asked me to invite you to the Burrow on Sunday. There'll be brunch, then Quidditch."

The redhead glanced at her son and Draco's daughter, keeping her eyes on them as she leaned towards him and whispered, "I think James would want to invite Selena, too."

Draco cleared his throat again, but gruffly this time. Hermione smirked, seeing that Ginny's comment had irked him.

"Well, thanks for the offer, Little Red, and thank Greg for me too, but I don't think your family likes me enough to have me over for brunch so soon."

"Her name's _Ginny_, you prat. And it's _George_, not _Greg_," Hermione said heatedly.

Ginny ignored that Hermione had corrected Malfoy on her behalf. "They'll all be civil to you in front of food, or Mum'll have their heads. But I don't think I can promise you the same on the Quidditch pitch."

"All the more reason for me to _politely_ turn down your offer," Draco drawled.

"No problem," Ginny hummed. "But _I'd_ like to invite you and Selena to my house for dinner."

Hermione laughed out loud. "Oh, please, Gin, Harry'll challenge him to a duel before he takes any more than two steps into your house."

"What a tempting idea, Granger. With that, I must accept the invitation, Little Red."

Hermione's head was going to burst with the amount of shock she'd received in just one afternoon.

"Great! This Saturday night, then, if you're not going to a function with your parents or whatever?"

Hermione was struck speechless that she couldn't even utter a word of protest. Saturday nights were when _she_ had dinner with the Potters!

She didn't hear Malfoy agree to the date and time, but Ginny said to her, "I expect you'll be there, of course, Hermione. James'll be awfully disappointed if you weren't. Oh, here comes Astoria! I've just invited Draco to dinner, and I was hoping you'd come along with Blaise and the kids," she said to the approaching Mrs. Zabini.

Astoria stood with them, looking so regal in the midst of the crowd, holding on to her children. "That would be lovely, but I'm afraid I'd have to decline. We usually spend the end of summer in Italy with Blaise's family, and we'll be leaving the day after tomorrow."

"Next time, then," Ginny amended.

"I think we're all set, Draco," Astoria said as she smiled fondly at her son and daughter.

Draco nodded. "All right, I'll just grab Selena so we can leave."

"We'll wait for you outside," Astoria called, navigating her children through the crowd and to the door.

"I'll get her for you," Ginny offered, and she scurried off, once again leaving Draco and Hermione together.

Draco smirked again, gave her a bow and held his hand out for hers. "I thank you for the wonderful afternoon, Miss Granger, truly."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but for civility's sake gave him her hand, and he kissed her knuckles. Her eyes softened, and even widened a bit.

He did the same to Ginny when she came back with James and Selena in tow.

"We'll see you all on Saturday, then," he said as he clutched his daughter's hand and led her out of the store.

James Potter sucked in a breath as Mr. Malfoy's words sank in.

**So, how was it? I know I totally deserve a lot of hate mail, but please leave a constructive review, haha. Thanks. :D**

**Also, notice the difference between how the Malfoys act when they're in public and when they're just with each other? And Draco's not bipolar. He just really has those flashes of melancholia.**


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